#i struggle a bit with ... vague headcanons

[504py]

A day in a life with Ivan. [ONESHOT]

Warnings below the cut 。。。

⚠️ NSFW, yandere content, alcoholism, reader got tradwifed, stockholm syndrome, domestic violence, Ivan is very blatantly sadistic, size difference, dacryphilia, vague breeding kink, no use of Y/N, forced feminization(?), gender neutral reader.

hey yawll!! i drew this since i wanted to play more with the painting style and color palette i did in my last post, but since i hit 800 followers recently, i decided to write something to go along with it too!

thank you guys so so much for putting up with my bs and enjoying the slop i create LOL. hopefully this will be enough to thank you all and to satiate you guys till i come back from hibernation again 🩵🙏

also!! while this is a gender neutral reader, ivan still refers to you as a housewife. this is pretty much an extension of the headcanon post i did on him.

MAN I NEED TO RECONNECT WITH NATURE AFTER THIS 😭😭😭

┊͙✧˖*°࿐

The average heart rate of a rabbit is a hundred and eighty beats per minute. Much, much faster than a human's at only a hundred, the little hearts of rabbits pump virile blood into their vulnerable bodies in order to outrun the cursed life of a prey animal they have no choice but to live.

Living with Ivan feels the exact same way. You, a human, were reduced to nothing but a prey animal whose only line of defense was either freeze or flight. Ivan prefers the freeze response. Tries to squeeze it out of you as much as he can.

The morning begins normally. You wake up next to his large, minimally clothed body, while you're bundled up as much as physically possible. You don't understand how he's so comfortable in the cold, but you've learned not to liken him to humans. You gently wake him up before you leave the bed– you learned that he doesn't like waking up to an empty bed without any prior notice. It takes a while for Ivan to wake up, he's a heavy sleeper, but when his violet eyes finally open and dilate at the sight of you, the first thing he does is smile and pull you in to trap you in a strong bear hug. Don't struggle, he'll just tighten his grip. Then he kisses your cheek, and just holds you there without saying anything. He'll grumble a little when you tell him you have to leave bed to make breakfast, but he eventually will let you go.

It's a little sick how your current living situation makes chores the best part of your day, given how it allows the most proximity between you and Ivan. Cooking in the early morning is your favorite, since it takes Ivan a long time to recover from his hibernation. Thinking about what to cook is a bit of a meditative process as well, allows you to think thoroughly about anything other than your way of life and the man keeping you here.

Today, you decided to make something simple and similar to something you ate growing up. Luckily, Ivan is not a picky eater, even though he rather obviously prefers Slavic food. He'll eat whatever you make happily, but he'll be in even better spirits if you make something familiar to him.

You do not cook in silence. Silence has quickly become one of your biggest pet peeves since your captivity, and you do anything to drown it out. This damn empty mansion, the way Ivan is so terrible with his words and chooses instead to crush you with his actions, the bleak snowy landscape that greets you if you dare try and find any solace outside of this cage and your captor– It's enough to drive anyone insane. So, you pass the days by drowning out your thoughts with music and movies.

Ivan doesn't allow you a cellphone, or anything remotely modern at all. His home has a terrifying dedication to being so analog, you'd think you'd been transported to the 90's if not for the TV with a few streaming services on it, the only modern piece of technology he allows. He likes to collect cameras, radios, and old phones. Ivan's menagerie of antique goods is so expansive that it earned itself its own room. It's almost like a small museum, and you're very glad he allows you to look at and touch them as you pleased– with care, of course. He can actually be rather charming when he acts as your "museum guide" in this room. One of the few times you find yourself thinking anything remotely positive about him.

Ivan's voice is soft, it always is, but when he talks about these things he's so passionate about and so engrossed in, it takes on a bit more of a stern, confident tone that is easier for you to listen to. And when he's looking at the objects he's explaining, you can admire his side profile more openly. He's caught you multiple times (he has surprisingly sharp senses), and you're met with a flustered smile instead of the usual so-sweet-to-the-point-it-looks-fake type of smile.

"What are you looking at?" He'd ask, his voice quieting back down to that syrupy tone.

"Just you." You'd reply, which makes him pause in surprise for a second, before it earns a soft giggle from the towering man.

"Why? Is something wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong, Vanya." The nickname makes him melt. "You just looked pretty."

The smile falls from his face, and his cheeks redden even more than you thought possible, before his grin returns tenfold. He laughs and looks away.

The memory of such interactions make you feel like buttering up to the man instead of rejecting him so much, then you realize you're just describing stockholm syndrome. As crazy as it is, it feels like, at this point, it'd be better to let it happen than to be aware and hateful every day you live here.

As if your thoughts had alerted him, you hear Ivan's deceptively soft footsteps descend the stairs. He doesn't say anything, and just makes his way to the kitchen to watch you.

He's dressed in more clothing now, a dark blue sweater and gray sweatpants. His neck is left bare around you. When you first met him, his clothing that purposefully covers his neck always went unnoticed by you, because such clothes fit him so well, like they were always meant to be there. It was only after your capture, when he took off his scarf and you saw the bandages around his pale neck did you start to question it.

You've never outright asked him, you worry the subject is too volatile. He just... decided to stop hiding it one day. It was after a shower when you first saw it, the ligature marks around his neck and a few faded pink scars on the front of his adam's apple. Ivan noticed you staring, and you've never seen him look so small and insecure before.

"Is it bad?"

"No." You shake your head. "Does it hurt?"

"Not anymore."

And that was that.

You finish plating up two dishes, one with a significantly heftier portion than yours considering how much he eats. You quickly place the chopping board and all the pans you used in the sink to wash later, and you bring the dishes to the table.

Ivan yawns, rubs at his eyes, and without much event, just picks up a knife and a fork and starts eating. You do the same only after fetching some tea from the samovar.

Breakfast is always quiet besides the background noise of whatever media you chose to play.

"Mm. Ёжик в тумaне?"

"Yeah. I like this one."

"A little somber, isn't it?"

"The hedgehog is cute. I relate to it a little bit."

Ivan takes his eyes off of the television to look at you, and ponders what you said a little more. He doesn't say anything, and continues eating.

"What will you be doing today?" You ask, in case you needed to iron some clothing or prepare extra food for guests.

He hums in thought for a moment. "I'll be going out in the evening to drink with the other nations."

"What will you be wearing?"

"What I usually do."

You nod, "I'll have it ready soon."

"What about you?" He asks.

"Hmm... I'll wash the dishes, then iron and press your clothing. After that, I'll think of what to cook for lunch while cleaning the house, and I'll prepare a meal for you before you leave. Then while you're away, I'll clean up some more and prepare dinner. And if I have some time, I'll sit and watch some more movies."

Ivan hums in satisfaction. He enjoys how strict to routine your lives were. Familiarity and stability are what he desires most, and he believes you're the only one who can grant him that wish.

"Perfect." He smiles, petting the crown of your head with a large, broad hand.

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

You adjust the dusty pink scarf around his thick neck after finishing wrapping the scars on his throat with bandages. You do it neatly and comfortably, as opposed to how Ivan does, quickly and efficiently, learned from decades of routine, yet it's still so much more uncomfortable compared to when you do it.

"How is it?" You ask. Ivan replies by taking your smaller hands in his and leaning in to press a kiss to the corner of your mouth.

"You do it perfectly, любовь моя." He sighs, before pouting slightly. "I wish I could just stay home."

"You'll be alright, Vanya. Alcohol is like water to you anyways."

He snickers and rolls his eyes. "That just means it'll be boring for me, then."

"Just try to have fun and relax. I'll be safe and quiet here."

A mousy smile appears on his pink lips. You've said exactly what he wants to hear. "Alright. I'll just get it over with." He presses one last kiss to the top of your hair before leaving.

"Don't cause any trouble!" Ivan sings, before exiting the living room and closing the door behind him. You get a glimpse of the blindingly white outside world, and a gust of stinging cold air brushes against your skin like a warning.

You let out a taut breath, finally feeling like you're able to breathe without his crushing presence. You dust off your hands, from nothing in particular, before going off to do just as you said to him earlier. It bothers you how much he still affects you without even being around.

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

The sky is dark, and all that is heard is the droning of soft music and the burbling of something boiling on the stove. Its tranquility is broken by the door opening with more aggression than usual.

"Vanya?" You call out, hoping the sweet usage of his nickname would quell whatever spawned this roughness within him.

All you hear is something vaguely resembling a groan and a sigh, and his heavy, thudding footsteps. Your heart starts to race a little.

"Is something wrong, Vanya?" You ask meekly, approaching him with caution. He reeks of alcohol, and his movements seem all sluggish. Jesus, how much did Russia of all people need to drink in order to get this wasted?

"I'm alright." He huffs, taking off his gloves and his coat with slight difficulty. You step in closer to help him undress, taking off his scarf. You don't miss how he tenses up, so you freeze and meet his constantly intense stare to gauge his expression. His eyelids are low, pupils contracted, eyes darker than usual, and cheeks flushed like they always are. He seems to be pouting a bit. He doesn't do much else, so you continue, stripping him of his large overcoat. All he's left in now is a black sweater and thick brown slacks.

"I've made dinner. You can just sit wherever you want and I'll bring it to you–"

Ivan leans in so quickly, you couldn't even register it in order to dodge or deflect his kiss in time. This time, it lands on your lips. He doesn't do this usually at all, unless he was planning something. The blood drains from your face when his large hand finds the back of your neck, and holds it stiff, preventing any chance of backing out.

His skin and the inside of his mouth are impossibly warm, and the bitter, sterile taste of vodka is the only damn thing invading your senses. You grip the fabric of his knitted sweater, it makes him part from your lips to pant like a dog and take said piece of clothing off, now left in a dark gray shirt.

"V-Va– You taste like alcohol–"

"Get drunk off of me." He whispers, before grabbing the sides of your arms and kissing you tongue first, lapping at your lips, and at this point, you learned better than to deny him. With all the mental fortitude you could muster, you rigidly part your lips. Despite all your efforts to be as pliant as possible to try and guarantee your safety, you can't help the shiver of revulsion when his tongue invades your mouth like a parasite and rubs against yours.

It feels like time slows down, you can feel the milliseconds before your instincts kick in, and each millisecond feels like a year of dread. Unable to stop raw instinct, you bite down.

Your heart stops when you hear him grunt, and feel his grip around your arms tighten before he shoves you away. He gasps, cursing under his breath in his mother tongue before setting his sights back on you.

Doe-eyed and trembling like a leaf in a hurricane, you begin to plead.

"N-No, no, I'm sorry. I didn't mean it. Vanya, please–"

He approaches, kicks the back of your knees, before you are grabbed by the scruff of your shirt. The collar of your blouse is yanked back and presses the fabric tightly against your throat as he drags you to the front door. You're coughing and struggling to regain your footing, and the moment you can breathe, you beg.

"Please! Nonono– Vanya please don't do this I'll be good–" The words tumble out like unorganized clutter using the one short breath you were able to catch.

With one more harsh tug, you fall to your knees again, and the door opens. The sight of the snow immediately triggers something within you, and you begin sobbing.

Ivan takes a peak at you, seemingly taking pity.

"Only for a few minutes."

You shake your head in a frenzy, not believing a word he says. Even if he was saying the truth, you'd much rather continue to humiliate yourself over being outside for even a few seconds. What if he forgets about you? What if that door never opens again? What if you die a miserable death, separated from your survival by just a few inches of wood?

That's why, the moment he throws you out, you scramble to your feet and shove that damned door open before he can fully close it. You know you're in deeper shit when you hear the door slam against him, and the deep yelp that follows it. You run for your life into the confines of his house.

You quickly make way to one of the bathrooms, the only rooms in the house you're still able to lock from the inside. You knew even that meant nothing, since you're sure Ivan could and would break them down without a second thought. Yet, it was still your best shot.

You lock the bathroom door and sit on the flooring right next to it. You try to calm down your heartrate and your heaving so you could try and listen in on whatever was going on outside this room.

Eerie silence is what greets you. You hate it, hate it so much. Shuddering, you hold your breath and strain your ears just a little more.

And that's when you hear it.

Soft footsteps.

You have to bite back a scream from how much raw fear that little sound sends shooting through your nervous system. Makes your skin crawl so bad that it almost hurts.

Ivan's clearly not in any rush, but FUCK did you wish he'd just get it over with and sprint right at you. You're sure he knows where you are, he just likes to freak you out, you can tell. That sweet smile he always puts on is nothing short of sadistic, constantly has this look in his eyes, some kinda weird sparkle that tells you he enjoys watching you struggle beneath him. Knowing you'll be face to face with those very eyes shortly makes your ribs squeeze around your quaking lungs and heart.

The footsteps approach. You brace yourself for a rough kick to the door or a pipe slamming through it.

Instead, he knocks. This was wrong, what was happening? Oh, god, this was so much worse.

"I won't ask again."

Scrambling to the door, not even sparing any time to actually stand up, you open it. You wince when you strain your neck to look up and see the damage done to him by your outburst. A nasty, bloody bruise on the bridge of his tall nose and that same crimson liquid streaming down his nostril. Your chest shakes like a dying sparrow's.

"I-I'm sorry. Please."

And he smiles.

Ivan is actually, genuinely, extremely pleased right now. He's wanted this all along, for you to fear the outside world so much you'd do anything in the world to stay here, right by his side. He doesn't give a single shit about the injuries you've caused him now and in the past, he's strong, he can take it, and he'll always forgive you over and over again. Of course, it makes him annoyed, because what good housewife would beat their husband like that? But he understands that your circumstances aren't exactly normal, so he'll endure it with irritation. At the rate he's breaking you in, though, you'll soon be as pliant and obedient as he expects you to be. Perhaps you'll even start to love him back. Just the thought of it raises goosebumps on his porcelain skin and makes his hands tremble in excitement.

You don't understand why he's giggling right now.

He sighs your name, and crouches down to meet your stare. You flinch as a droplet of blood hits the tiles. Ivan's grin only widens when your shaking hands reach for his face and try to wipe the blood away.

"O-Oh, Ivan," You whine uselessly, getting up on boneless legs to grab the first-aid kit. He watches with bright, amused eyes. He knows you won't try anything anymore. He's confident in your compliance to him.

As carefully as you can, you wipe off the blood with paper towels, crying harder when it smears instead of going away completely like you'd hoped. It felt like your mistakes were going to be impossible to fix.

Ivan's cheery gaze never falters. Maybe this is the happiest you've ever seen him, despite the blood streaming into the gaps of his teeth and forming a grotesque image. Dusty eyelashes frame his smiley crescent moon eyes, cheeks ruddy as little alcohol-stained puffs of air pollute the cold atmosphere. You jolt when he chuckles throatily.

"What's wrong?" His voice is as sickly sweet as it always is.

"Y-You're mad– I made you mad. I'm sorry." You choke on your own words, trying your best not to drop the bottle of disinfectant in your weak hand.

"What did you do?"

"I–" You hiccup, "I d-didn't– I didn't listen to you. I wasn't good."

Unable to hide his pleasure, he laughs and leans in to give you a chaste, bloody kiss.

"It will be okay. I love you."

You're glad your crying masks the gag reflex that almost makes itself apparent when you know what you have to say next. You steel your nerves and dryly swallow the taste of Ivan's blood.

"I love– I love you too."

He gives you a pleased, closed-mouth smile, and presses a kiss to the top of your head before taking the bottle of disinfectant from you. He begins to tend to his own wounds.

"This does not mean I forgive you, though."

Just as you felt your whole world crashing down around you, Ivan saves you.

He breathes out a laugh, "No, I won't throw you outside again. It's much better staying inside with me, yes?"

You nod in a frenzy. "Yes! Y-Yes, much better. Please don't."

"Well," Ivan prefaces, disinfecting the cut on his nose before placing a bandaid on it. He turns his head to the side and spits out the blood left in his mouth. "You will have to tend to this wound. Kiss it better." And before you could even wonder what he meant by that, his tongue lolls out, brandishing the red bite mark from earlier.

Disgust registers for only a second.

Like an automaton made solely to serve, you lean forward, grasp onto his biceps, and press a needy, desperate kiss to his drooling tongue. He laughs while you lap at his tongue like a wounded dog, warm, alcoholic breaths brushing against your face.

After relishing in the feeling of your worship for a little longer, he gently pushes you to the ground and crawls over your jittery body, placing a hand against the small of your back to hold you up and closer to him, with the other gripping the outside of your thigh.

"You will not bite me this time?"

Nodding fearfully, praying the conviction in your eyes will be enough to warrant his forgiveness, you wrap your arms around his neck.

Sighing happily, he presses his cold lips against yours, taking the lead happily as he moans into the kiss. The sound was more out of the satisfaction of establishing his dominance rather than the actual physical pleasure.

Ivan doesn't usually indulge in sexual fantasies or acts, which surprises you considering how touchy the man is. His mind usually favors daydreams of a stable, domestic life with you. Ivan prioritizes establishing your relationship over anything else, so he doesn't really find the time to lull over menial things like sex. Marriage is one thing, but your total submission is another.

Then again, this doesn't mean that he fully doesn't have any carnal desires when it comes to you. It's you, for christ's sake. When his fantasies of dominance come into play, it seems only obvious that sometimes his thoughts wander into the bedroom.

Ivan fantasizes a lot about having you desire him as much as he does you. He wants you to need him like air. Wants to have you mewling his name and clinging to him like your life depended on it, which would quite literally be the case right now. Wants to see your pretty, pretty tears reserved only for him. Wants to see you fall apart in his arms over and over again while comforting you so meanly and kissing your crying face.

Ivan tries his best to not let these thoughts make themselves apparent, but fuck, do you make it so hard sometimes. How could any man not be affected by the sight of their adorable little housewife in an apron? Takes so much for him to not just grab you by your hair and bend you over the counter. Whenever you cry for whatever reason, he almost feels guilty over how instantly horny it makes him. Almost feels guilty when all he can think about is licking those tears off of your face and making himself the cause of them. God, he wants to play the role of a nice doting husband so bad, but he can't help but feel you up and breathe down your neck when you try on the dresses and lingerie he buys for you. He can't help grabbing your waist and pressing his erection against your ass– not on purpose, he just wanted to be close to you.

While aggressive in his approach, Ivan never forces any sexual acts that you refuse. Even if he's left high and breathing heavy, he still wants to be someone you don't completely hate. Be a good husband, be a good husband. He always chants to himself. All his prayers proved fruitful when he quite literally cried tears of joy during your first time together.

Ivan doesn't know what was different that day, he didn't expect anything, just to make out and have you reject him after a bit, but you just... kept going, until he was ramming into you, hands tight around your sweaty waist and fucking into you like you were just a fleshlight. He's never seen himself like this, moaning and gasping like a girl and feeling so fucking good that all that he wanted– all that he could think of was breeding you like a bull and how beautiful your family would be. God, the memory of you struggling, doing your best to take his thick cock and crying so cutely just trying to bottom out is engraved into the grooves of his brain. It makes his stomach feel all warm whenever he thinks of it. He wants to carve it under his eyelids so he can see it every time he blinks.

Ivan laughs a lot during sex, call him creepy, it's genuinely because he is just so damn happy that he can't hide it. Why should he hide it from you? He wants to show you just how much he loves you and how good you make him feel. You make him feel so damn happy and complete that all he could do was chant IloveyouIloveyouIloveyou– while whimpering, giggling, his tears dripping onto your face.

Maybe he'll get lucky again.

Without parting, Ivan carefully lowers your back to the tiled floor, straddling your body and snaking his long fingers under your blouse, resting them against your heated abdomen. He smiles into the kiss when you jolt away, tickled by how frigid they are.

The ends of his feathered gray hair tickles your wet face, your body shivering at all the different sensations attacking you simultaneously. The cold tiles, his freezing hands, his hot tongue, the faint taste of blood, the warm drool seeping out the side of your mouth, his arid breathing, the smell of alcohol–

Your hands, still by the back of his neck, reach up to ever-so-slightly tug at his hair to signal you needed a breather. Ivan makes a small noise of surprise, before pulling away.

He looks absolutely dazed, lips shiny with remnants of a spit trail, and lavender eyes heavy and glazed over with a feral lust. His breathing is labored, muscular chest rising and falling as he intently watches every minute expression your face makes. Despite the blatant lack of nudity, this might be the most erotic sight you've ever seen. Fuck, why does he have to look so good when you're supposed to hate him?

Right now, you were so exhausted you couldn't even remember what reason you'd have to hate him, despite there being enough that you could spend the rest of your life listing all of them down.

And just when you try to refuse by backing up, your thigh brushes against his boner and he lets out the most heated, breathy, shivery moan you've ever heard. The vocalization sounded like it was tailor-made to tantalize you, to tempt you into biting the fruit. And you know what? You were a sinner anyways.

"Bed– B-Bedroom."

A toothy grin appears on Ivan's face, and he exhales a breathy laugh. He looks absolutely delighted, and starved.

Without a second thought, he picks you up, and carries you to the closest one.

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

The next morning begins normally. Your body is sore, and covered in bite marks. That was one of the best sleeps you've had in recent memory. Ivan seems to think so, too, with his arms cradling your torso and a hand resting over your lower abdomen. The ache reminds you about what happened yesterday, you can still feel him in there somehow.

You woke up a little later in the morning compared to usual. Since you're still a little too exhausted to get up and begin cooking, you lay there for a while, listening to the quiet howling of the wind outside. You wonder when was the last time you heard any birds chirping.

Thinking of the outside world brings you a bit of dread, don't really like doing it. But when your life is so isolated and so alone, misery can become a form of entertainment.

The more and more days go by, the more and more do you forget what your life was like before meeting the Russian. The longer you live with Ivan, the more does it feel that he was just always there, and that your life before meeting him was a falsified memory. You're not even sure how much time has passed since, it's always snowing outside, every day feels the same.

That's the one thing you remember from before this life, the feeling of warmth. You're not sure you remember the feeling of it, really, but you're well aware of the absence it leaves behind. Maybe when spring finally comes around, you can open that door, and...

Eyebrows furrowing as a migraine starts to set in, you shake your head weakly. You didn't like thinking about the outside.

Turning over to face Ivan, you gently wake him up before you leave the bed– you learned that he doesn't like waking up to an empty bed without any prior notice. He eventually stirs from his sleep, hugs you, and you do not struggle.

┊͙✧˖*°࿐

[drabblesandsnippets]

Safe

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Plus-size female reader

Background: TW: (Past) SA. During times when old traumatic memories start to pop up again (for whatever random reason/trigger), I find myself seeking out art that I can connect with to help me process things. Over the years, I’ve spent endless hours searching for stories/books where the main character is dealing with sexual trauma while also trying to have/maintain a healthy sex life - this is my attempt to write that type of story (without delving into the details of the trauma).

Summary: (4k) TW: (Past) SA. Bucky’s girlfriend craves intimacy while struggling with triggers and flashbacks.

Warnings: 18+ Only. TW: Mention of past SA/trauma (very vague), flashbacks (including during sex), anxiety. Established relationship. Bucky doesn’t always sleep with his prosthetic on (who else has this headcanon?). Fluff. Praise. Enthusiastic consent. Soft and sweet Bucky. Pet names (doll, sweetheart, baby). (Unprotected) PiV. Aftercare.

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Trauma has a way of sneaking up on you when you least expect it. 

One minute, you’re laughing and dancing in the kitchen with your boyfriend, his hands around your waist while he sings a song from the 40’s, and the next thing you know, you’re leaning over the sink, your knees nearly giving out as you try to remember how to breathe. 

All it took was one fleeting press of Bucky against your back and you were suddenly transported to a different time, your mind taking you back to those moments when your life irrevocably changed.

Other times, it’s less conspicuous. 

You’re on the back of his motorcycle, enjoying a peaceful ride outside the city, taking the scenic route to enjoy a bit more time together, when you’re hit with a wave of anxiety. Something in your brain made a connection to the past, and the only signal you can give Bucky is a tighter hold around his torso.

There’s not much that fazes him, given his own history and lingering struggles, but it doesn’t always make it easier. You oscillate between wanting to talk it all out and just wanting to pretend you’re fine - Bucky doing his best to meet you wherever you’re at, trying to ease your burden as best he can.

When you’re really lucky, it’s a momentary thing, your mind allowing the memory to fade so you can focus on the present. When that happens, you get to go weeks, sometimes months, without it happening again.

Of course, you’re not always that lucky. There are times when it invades the rest of your day, seeping into moments it has no business being a part of. Trying to control parts of your life that you swore it’d never touch. 

And then, there are times like now, when it sticks around. When it feels like the smallest thing sets you off, brief flashes of things you’d rather not have to think about playing out behind your eyes. Your body constantly on edge, giving you no reprieve, even when the memories finally fade out.

You’re not sure how many days it’s been, or what the initial trigger even was, your mind too preoccupied with trying not to take a trip down memory lane. The only lifeline you can cling to is knowing you have a partner who supports you as much as you support him, especially during dark times, refusing to give up on each other.

As painful as it all can be, it’s a familiar pattern, one you know you’ll eventually break free of, no matter how turbulent it gets. Until then, you ride the wave, doing everything you can to stay afloat, to allow yourself to continue to live your life, seek out the things that bring you joy and pleasure.

Yesterday was filled with laughter and adventures, Bucky taking you to some of his favorite places, whisking you off to the next destination when your anxiety started to get the better of you. As if he’s made it his mission to help you find your footing again.

Bucky’s love and patience is more than you could have ever hoped for, and as you wake up with him snuggled against your back, in the bed you’ve shared for years, the remnants of your dream trying to take hold, his name spills out of you, filling the dark silence.

In an instant, he’s awake enough to breathe your name in return, his voice husky with sleep as he asks, “You okay? S’wrong, doll?” Bucky’s aware it was probably another nightmare, or maybe a flashback, but he’s learned not to assume anything, giving you the space to decide if and how you want to be heard.

It’s not always that simple. Sometimes your voice can fail you, words getting trapped in your throat as you struggle to focus on the moment. You’re not even sure how to describe what’s happening, other than to admit that you feel on edge, like your skin is crawling, your body growing restless.

Bucky doesn’t need more explanation, his hand leaving its normal resting place on your thigh to slide along your back, his intention clear. His familiar touch draws the expected reaction out of you, a soft sigh of relief as a bit of tension leaves your body, his fingertips dancing across your shoulder blade.

Almost immediately you’re curling up, inviting him to keep going, his reverent touch spreading tingles across your skin. As intimate as it is, there’s nothing inherently sexual about it, Bucky wanting nothing more than to help you relax, to lull you back into a peaceful slumber.

Yet, your body seems to have other ideas, each tender caress of your back sending sparks of arousal to your core. It’s far from the first time, even over the past several days, but it’s yet another aspect of your relationship that gets thrown off balance during times like this.

Any other time, Bucky would read your subtle cues, happily accepting the silent invitation to touch more of you, to bring you unspeakable pleasure. Until you’re back on solid ground though, it’s not an option for him. He can’t risk pressuring you, the thought of adding more stress on top of everything you’re already struggling with too unbearable to him. 

You can’t exactly blame him. When the roles are reversed - when Bucky is dealing with his own trauma, ghosts of his past invading his mind - you follow his lead, offering him nothing more than a place to rest. A safe space, where he’s completely in control.

That’s what he’s been offering you since your brain decided to spend so much time in the past. Intimacy, in whatever form it takes, is on your terms, things never progressing unless you’re vocalizing your desires. 

Bucky’s patience is unyielding. No matter how much your soft, breathy noises of appreciation stir up his need for you, the path of his hand doesn’t alter. His fingertips continue to draw circles across your skin, exploring the contours of your back, as if he hasn’t already mapped every single inch of you. 

One of his favorite things is to touch you. To bring you comfort, to provide safety, and yes, when you allow him, to bring you pleasure. And right now, despite - or maybe because of - the turmoil broiling beneath the service, it’s what you need.

There’s a risk that things might overwhelm you. That you won’t be able to lose yourself in the moment. You try not to think about that, telling yourself that you at least deserve to try, knowing Bucky will help you through it, wherever it leads.

Your request for more remains subtle, a slight shift of your hips, pressing back into him, the evidence of his own arousal growing against your ass. Nothing changes for Bucky, his gentle touch following a trail up along your spine to the back of your neck, his thumb stroking a particular tense spot, refusing to take advantage of your trust in him.

There’s a part of you that wonders if you should just allow yourself to succumb to the sleep that’s threatening to overtake you again, but you miss him. And, as he drags the back of his fingers down to the dip of your waist, you moan softly, your thighs tensing with need, seeking out friction.

Bucky knows exactly what he’s doing to you, each pass of his hand along sensitive flesh making you tremble, goosebumps spreading across your skin. It’s not long before he’s able to smell you, the knowledge that his touch turns you on so much nearly enough to make him lose his resolve.

Somehow he remains steadfast, even as you shift again, arching your back and angling your hips to find more pressure, his erection trapped against the curve of your ass. There’s an ache building inside of him to grind against you, to give you what your body is so obviously asking for, your shuddering sighs encouraging him to keep touching you, waiting for permission that he knows might not come.

It’s more than okay if it doesn’t, Bucky content with easing your burdens in whatever way you’ll allow him. It’s a privilege he’ll never take for granted. 

As is the privilege of getting to bring you more pleasure. And the moment you whisper his name, followed by a barely audible utterance of “please,” he’s asking you what you need. Desperate to give you everything you desire.

It provides the catalyst to empower you to ask for more, telling him how good he feels as you shamelessly rub against him, Bucky’s own heavy breaths and words of love spurring you on. The gentle caress of his fingers never cease, tentatively dipping lower to tease along your hip, and you leave no room for doubt, quickly letting out a needy moan of “yes.”

His reaction comes as no surprise, your consent making him groan, his hard cock throbbing against you. You’re about to reach back, wanting to feel more of him, when you’re triggered without warning, your breath catching and your back stiffening, unwanted images flashing in your head. 

“Are you okay?”

The concern in his voice keeps you in place, choosing to ignore your body’s instinct to pull away, forcing yourself to breathe through it. As the silence tries to consume you, threatening to derail everything, Bucky’s hand on your hip helps you get the words out, the soft clearing of your throat letting him know a response is forthcoming.

“Yeah,” you finally whisper into the dark, grateful when he doesn’t move, his thighs flush against yours. “I don’t- I’m okay, I don’t wanna stop.” Before he can ask if you’re sure, your hand comes into contact with his arm, your fingers sliding down to gently take hold of his wrist, refusing to second guess yourself as you guide his hand higher up your body, showing him exactly what you want.

The heat of his hand cupping your breast brings you fully back into the present with him, ripping a strangled moan out of you, your back arching to grind harder against him.

“Fuck,” he exhales heavily, Bucky wasting no time in following your lead, your erect nipple pinched between his long fingers, his palm squeezing your tit as he murmurs soft words of praise. His ears are trained on you, listening for every noise he elicits, from the loud moans to the barely audible gasps, ensuring his touch remains welcome.

It’s everything you could possibly want, his leg soon finding its way between yours, Bucky barely getting a chance to ask you if it’s okay before you’re begging him to keep going. Your whine of pleasure drowns out his own noises of appreciation, his thigh pressed to your slick heat, his rock hard cock starting to leak pre-cum.

“You feel so good,” you whisper, one hand gripping the edge of the bed, giving you leverage to grind on his thigh, the fingers of your other hand still gripping his wrist, keeping him pinned to you.

“So do you, baby,” he moans in your ear, nudging his leg higher to find a steady rhythm against your swollen pussy, intent on drawing this out as long as you’ll let him. “Love when you ride my thigh like this, when you let me feel how wet you are.”

Your body takes over, chasing the high, Bucky letting you set the pace, his large hand palming your heavy breasts, the occasional pinch and playful tug of your nipples building you higher. He never lets the silence settle for too long, filling the moments between heavy breaths and barely coherent words with a string of praises, reminding you how much he loves every inch of you.

The darkness seems to amplify your senses, allowing you to get lost in the sensations, your walls pulsing with every delicious grind against your clit. You’re on the verge of begging him to fuck you, the words on the tip of your tongue when a wave of tension takes over, ruining all your plans.

Your hips falter the same time Bucky’s do, his gentle assurance of, “it’s okay,” calming your racing heart before it can beat out of control. Keeping his hand pressed to your stomach, you breathe through the confusion, trying to pinpoint the trigger before deciding to focus on how to move forward instead.

A request for more comes in the form of asking him to turn on a light, the need to see him overpowering everything else, and Bucky’s climbing off the bed, a lingering kiss and touch to keep you company until he returns. You’re kicking the covers off just as he clicks the adjoining bathroom light on, your eyes adjusting quickly to the soft glow now illuminating the room.

The irresistible image of you waiting for him has him returning to the bed within record time, his feet only pausing when his gaze drifts to his prosthetic arm, safe in its resting place in the corner of the room. He doesn’t always wear it to bed, your sex life never suffering without it, but he knows how much you enjoy having both his arms wrapped around you, the slight furrow of his brow telling you exactly what he’s thinking.

You interrupt the unspoken question, your voice pulling Bucky’s attention back to you, your unprompted words taking him by surprise. “I wanna ride you.”

“Oh really?” he asks, the former subject easily forgotten, a grin spreading at the eager nod of your head. He doesn’t need to be told twice, jumping onto the bed with a flourish, landing on his back with a soft thud, a giddy look plastered across his face.

“You’re ridiculous,” you laugh, getting to your knees beside him, not missing the way his eyes travel along your curves, the peak of his tongue wetting his lips giving you momentary pause, your thighs tensing with need.

Bucky’s obviously thinking the same thing, his laughter sending a thrill down your spine as he asks, “Whatcha thinking about ridin’, doll?”

You enjoy having his head between your thighs just as much as he does, the teasing flick of his tongue along his top teeth having you shaking your head at him. “Your cock, if that’s okay with you,” you tell him, the playful grin on your face masking your concern of being triggered again if you can’t see his eyes.

“Oh, no complaints from me,” he emphatically promises, offering out his hand to help you climb on top, your worry not lost on him. You’ve been through so much together, Bucky having learned to read your body, understanding your emotions even better than you sometimes. As obsessed as he is with you, his mouth watering at the thought of tasting you, he won’t push for it, especially not tonight.

Your bodies fit together perfectly, puzzle pieces interlocking like you were made for each other, his thick cock stretching you slowly with each roll of your hips, taking him inch by glorious inch. His firm grip on your thigh encourages you to keep going, his audible grunts and gasps filling your ears, unable to tear your eyes away from him.

“Jesus,” Bucky pants, his lashes fluttering every time you let him slide in just a bit deeper, his hips tense underneath you, determined to give you complete control. “Feel so good, baby. God, I love you.”

You’re quick to nod your head, your hands finding their way to his chest, allowing you to find an easy rhythm, your eyes nearly rolling back when he bottoms out inside of you. “Oh fuck,” you whine, your hips moving on autopilot, grinding in slow circles, soon finding the perfect pressure against your clit that has you trembling on top of him.

There’s something incredibly intoxicating about being in charge of your own pleasure, especially when Bucky could easily overpower you, the occasional twitch of his hips signaling just how hard he’s working to control himself.

It leaves you breathless, your body finding a quicker pace, the head of his cock hitting that spot deep inside of you that has you seeing stars. When his name starts to fall past your lips like a prayer, his thighs tense, shifting underneath you, the new angle forcing out the words burning the back of your throat, “Bucky… baby, please. Please, fuck me.”

“Co’mere,” he growls, pulling you down on top of him, your palms finding purchase against the mattress on either side of his head, his eyes never leaving yours. With his arm wrapped around your waist, hand splayed across your lower back, he starts a slow pace, watching the pleasure play out across your face.

Bucky pulls out until your walls pulse, a prideful grin twitching at the corners of his mouth at how greedily you welcome him back in, his eyes darkening when he bottoms out, your thrusts soon meeting his.

“That’s it,” he pants, nodding his head, his hold on you grower firmer, doing his best to keep the right amount of friction against your clit. “Just like that, take whatever you need baby.” He’s aware your muscles are going to grow tired soon, your knees likely needing a break before long, but he refuses to stop until you tell him to, gritting his teeth with effort to hold his own orgasm back.

You’ve lost track of how many times you’ve come close to the edge yourself, only for the feeling to fade, your mind threatening to spiral into unwanted territory. Until this very moment, you’ve done a good job at holding the unwanted feelings at bay, your desire for intimacy and connection driving your actions.

Except, that’s suddenly no longer the case, a particularly sharp burst of pleasure has you closing your eyes and before you realize it, everything’s come to a standstill. The unwarranted apology dies on the tip of your tongue, a heavy sigh of frustration leaving you as you quickly shake your head, sitting up to try to regain some semblance of composure.

“Sweetheart,” Bucky murmurs, taking hold of your hand to bring it to his lips, brushing a kiss across your knuckles to soothe your anxiety. “Tell me what you need.”

You breathe heavily, your bodies still connected, Bucky nestled deep inside of you, your walls spasming uncontrollably around him. There’s no reason to push through this, to ignore your body’s obvious discontent, no matter how much you want to pretend you can handle this.

It’d be unfair to subject either of you to that inevitable discomfort. The only thing you can do is face it, admit that you’re not as strong as you’d like to admit, your independent nature wanting to fight you the entire way. A gentle clearing of your throat, followed by a rough swallow and you’re bringing your awareness back to the present, your eyes finally opening to meet his once again.

One look at him and it’s easy to find your voice, his warm smile breaking down your walls like they’re paper-thin. “I need to feel you on top of me.” To feel the comfort of his weight, the safety of his embrace.

Bucky’s more than happy to oblige, trusting that you understand your own needs, knowing you’ll tell him if it becomes too much. Guiding you back down on top of him, his lips find yours, pouring all his love and devotion into the simple act as he secures an arm around you, cradling you against him in order to roll you both over.

It’s not as seamless as either of you anticipate, your tense muscles and abundant wetness causing him to slip out. Neither of you are able to hide your exhales of disappointment, Bucky’s grin meeting your own when he lines himself back up, the head of his cock nudging your entrance, giving you every opportunity to change your mind.

As grateful as you are, it’s not needed, and your hips shift, telling him everything he needs to know, the nod you give him alleviating any lingering doubt. With his weight settling on top of you, his body aligned with yours, he slides his arm underneath your shoulder to cradle the back of your neck in his palm and finally surges forward, sinking back into your tight heat. 

Your unbridled reaction spurs him on, your gasps and cries of exquisite pleasure causing heat to race up his spine, his hips setting a familiar pace. He can’t stop himself from praising you, watching you start to fall apart for him, your walls fluttering around him with every deep stroke, his body grinding hard against your clit.

You cling to him, nails digging into his back, your orgasm just out of reach, sweat covering your body, the desperation written all over your face. You’re so close, Bucky’s loud groans and animalistic grunts usually enough to send you spiraling, his words causing more arousal to coat his cock, but there’s still something holding you back, your body on the verge of tensing again.

“Tell me I’m okay,” you gasp, your eyes locked on his, your hips meeting his thrusts, your body begging for release.

“You’re okay,” he promises, dropping his forehead to yours, his heavy breath fanning your face, using every ounce of energy to not succumb to the pleasure threatening to overwhelm him. “You’re okay, my sweet girl. You’re safe, I’m not going anywhere.”

His steady stream of assurance has you crying out, tears pricking your eyes, the familiar tingle starting to build to unbearable heights, surely about to tease you again. Bucky refuses to give up, fucking you through it, maintaining the perfect, consistent speed, his cock bottoming out each time, the sounds of your bodies meeting in a heated rush adding to the sensations coursing through you.

“There we go,” he groans, his grip on the back of your neck tightening, holding you in place as you start to tighten around him, refusing to let you push him out. “You feel so fucking good, sweetheart, just let go for me. You’re safe, you’re right where you belong.”

That’s all it takes, your mouth opening in a silent scream as your entire body tenses, your limbs wrapped around him, his movements never faltering, letting you ride out the intense waves taking over your senses. You’re not even aware when your voice returns to you, a string of incoherent noises filling the air as you come hard, sobbing from the onslaught of pleasure, Bucky not missing a single second of the glorious vision unfolding underneath him.

He doesn’t allow himself to let go until he’s sure it���s what you want, your gasping pleas triggering his orgasm. With a groan of your name, he pulls you into a fiery kiss, his hips thrusting just a few more times as his pulsing cock fills you with his release.

You've been reduced to heavy pants and trembling limbs, Bucky's body shaking against yours, more sweet utterances of love and devotion being shared as you both return back to reality.

For the first time in too long, you’re able to stay relaxed in his embrace, refusing to let him move for several moments, the weight of him pressing down on you keeping you grounded. It’s not until your lungs start to ache from lack of deep breaths that you relent, letting Bucky roll you both over, your bodies continuing to draw comfort from each other.

There’s no rush to clean up, no dire need to leave the bed, the two of you remaining there for as long as you want, your mind at ease, Bucky’s steady breaths and gentle caress of your back almost lulling you back to sleep. 

This time, there’s no need to fight it. You let yourself drift off, peaceful rest once again overtaking you, Bucky content to hold you for the rest of the night, promising to keep you safe wherever your dreams take you.

---------------------------

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Main Masterlist

[comingdownwithme]

Mind giving us some headcanons for the woods brothers? Please and thank you

IVE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS ASK OUGHH LOVE THE WOODS BROTHERS

Anyways, changed a few things about them and their story (a lot for Liu), so uhh I hope you don't mind all that ousgdhdhdh

Jeff the Killer

The Woods- like all families- weren't perfect, but they all tried their best despite the fact. They played their roles, attended church every Sunday when they could, and most importantly, they loved each other, and Jeffery Hodak Woods wouldn't have changed a thing.

Still, fate doesn't bend to what we want, does it?

After drastic changes and loss after crushing loss had driven the eldest Woods son to madness, Jeff wondered if those sermons truly meant anything when he damned himself to hell the moment he crawled out of the new house he was supposed to call home and decided that three men were about to pay for what they did.

Struggled with Intrusive thoughts his whole life, and though his parents meant well, being raised thinking that every awful thought was a product of the devil himself left Jeff to internalise a few things.

Speaking of internalising a few things! Internalised homophobia! Being raised in a religious, conservative household in the early 2000s is gonna do that to you lmao

He's got a Southern accent. After reading one fanfic I literally can't hear Jeff with anything else and it's a curse I must bear alone </3

Even before the incident, he's always had a bit of a gummy smile, his ruined cheeks just made his grin wider which emphasised it more.

Smoker since he was a teen, though his parents never knew that. He vaguely smells of tobacco and iron.

Is a damn good cook and huntsr. He learned the former from his mom alongside Liu, and learned the latter from his dad, but after the incident (and the fact he's basically homeless), he doesn't cook unless he truly has to due to his Pyrophobia. The only fire he can tolerate are from his lighter.

He does still use his hunting skills though, both for his targets and for, y'know, food if he's some place rural. He's kinda gross and feral though, so when desperate times call for desperate measures, well, it's not the first time he's eaten roadkill.

His burn scars are mainly isolated to his left side, though they stretch a little past half of his back.

Paints his nails black when he can. His nails and his knife are the only two things he consistently takes care of lmao

Targets anyone. He knows most people will be missed, and he doesn't want to suffer with his grief alone.

Gave himself that sick Glasgow smile when he was facing an especially bad period of grief, and since he wasn't raised in the most emotionally open household, he wasn't equipped to handle his own feelings. The end product was rough and jagged from the pain, but at least he could still smile all pretty like his mom told him to.

Jeff woke up surrounded by fire, unable to scream amidst the rubble and smoke as it threatened to suffocate him. Sometimes, when he sleeps, he relives that moment, leading him to be terrified of sleeping. He attempts to solve this by cutting off the lids of his eyes, but he pussied out before he could finish the job, leaving himself half-blind when his fucked eye dried up.

I HAVE... SO MANY THOUGHTS ABOUT JEFF BEING RAISED IN A RELIGIOUS HOUSEHOLD AND GENUINELY BELIEVING HE WAS POSSESSED OR TARGETED BY THE DEVIL AT A YOUNG AGE... IMAGINE, WAKING UP IN UNIMAGINABLE PAIN AS FIRE FLOODS YOUR VISION, AND THINKING THAT "This is it. I really am damned to hell."

IMAGINE CRAWLING OUT OF THAT OUT OF SHEER FORCE OF WILL, AND AS YOU LOOK UPON THE GOLDEN FLAMES THAT SPROUT FROM YOUR HOME, BELIEVING THAT YOU'RE NOT THE SAME PERSON YOU WERE, AND THAT YOU'RE A DEMON PARADING IN DEFORMED, HUMAN FLESH

THAT THE FIRE HAD REVEALED WHO YOU REALLY WERE ALL ALONG, AND THAT THERE'S NOTHING MORE YOU COULD DO BUT SUCCUMB

Liu Woods

Growing up, Liu had always been close to his older brother. He could rely on him, and Jeff, in turn, could always rely on Liu, though the younger of the two always knew that his older brother could never truly be vulnerable with him, nor could he compare to just how much Jeff had done for him growing up.

One day though, a while after they've moved, a fresh start for a new life, Liu takes the chance to protect his older brother just as he had done for him, though he'd come to regret that choice when- while in juvenile detention- Liu finds out that his home was gone, alongside his parents, and at the center of it all was the brother he tried to protect.

With the loss of his parents, Liu went around in different foster homes, though he never truly felt like he was part of their families growing up.

As he grew up, he managed to graduate and become a detective, both to help people amidst a growing amount of murders and missing persons cases, and to find and hunt down Jeff.

He'd rather die than admit it, but he does miss Jeff, and he could feel an awful, sinking feeling within him at the thought of hurting him. In the end though, his morality wins over

When he first met his brother in person, Liu recognised Jeff immediately. Jeff, however, did not. Liu was overpowered, and it was only until he had already carved through Liu's cheek did Jeff realise what he had just done. The doctors say that Liu shouldn't have survived then with how much blood he had lost, but thankfully, someone was there to help. Though when the paramedics came, all they found was Liu, alone and unconscious.

Hates the smell of tobacco.

His southern accent isn't as noticeable as Jeff's, but it's more obvious in the way he says certain words or when he's angry.

Has intrusive thoughts, though he's more capable of dealing with them compared to a certain someone. Doesn't make them easier to deal with though, and that doesn't make the guilt he suffers through any less of a burden, especially as an officer of the law.

[ninupi]

Hii, can I request headcanons or fic for Mitsuya with a model reader?

crush? | t. mitsuya

₊˚⊹♡ tags; fem!reader, finale timeline so spoilers? mitsuya being a absolute sweetheart as usual, also him struggling a bit as a new designer lol, this is a slowburn ngl...y/n overthinking towards the end

₊˚⊹♡ wc; 3,500+

₊˚⊹♡ a/n; this was a bit vague so I wasn't too sure what you wanted exactly, I didnt mean for this to be so long but then I just kept writing and it became a lot longer then I anticipated LOL also ill probably rename this later, i never even know what to name some of these sometimes

Mitsuya threw down all the photos of headshots his assistant had brought him to look through "This is it?" he sighed rubbing his eyes tiredly. The girl stumbled around a bit "Uh yes sir, that's all of the models...you don't see any you like?" she questioned a bit frustrated.

"I'm sorry, but no, none of them have what I'm looking for exactly..." he sighed, standing up and picking up a headshot of a young man. "None of them? Like not a single one?" the girl questioned, a bit shocked. Mitsuya only shook his head while pacing around. 

"Well, I don't mean to step on your toes or anything, sir, but the show is in two months, and we need to start booking models..." she muttered, looking through her emails, hoping to see a response. You can call Hakkai, and I'll choose some of the people here, but give me a few more days to pick someone for the main piece."

Mitsuya ran a hand through his hair, softly pulling at the roots in frustration. He had someone specific in mind for the main piece of the show. Unfortunately, Okamoto, his assistant, was unable to book you. They didn't even receive an email back from your manager.

Mitsuya knew it'd be a miracle if he were able to book you for his show but he still tried. But now that the odds weren't in his favor he had to find a new model for the face of the show, he could just go with Hakkai. He wasn't too sure Hakkai wanted to sport a dress on the runway though...

You watched from the corner of your eye as your manager angrily swiped through her tablet, hundreds of emails in the reflection of her glasses. You went to say something when you felt a tug on your hair "Could you be a bit more gentle?" you muttered getting fed up, that was the sixth time this stylist had tugged on your hair in the last twenty minutes.

You didn't say anything when he softly apologized while continuing to do your hair in a crazy updo for your upcoming photoshoot. "Are you ok over there? You look like you're about to throw that thing" You call out to your manager who's now angrily typing away on her tablet.

"You would think after sending 15 emails and not receiving a single one back this person would stop emailing me about you," she muttered with furrowed eyebrows, who the hell was blowing up your manager about you anyway? You had just started seriously modeling this year and you've been very successful but you didn't think you were that desired by some people. 

"Who is it? What's it for?" you question now really curious about this person's persistence while shifting in your seat. "I don't even know, it's to walk at some small runway show, nothing worth your time." She sighs lifting her glasses to rest on the top of her head. 

You had only walked a few runways, and each time it was a bit chaotic but you had lots of fun "Oh really, who's the designer? I wouldn't mind doing another runway!" your manager looks at you a bit shocked while you smile at her innocently. 

She quickly recuperates and walks over to you holding out her tablet "He's a small upcoming designer, Mitsuya Takashi? I've never heard of him personally but Hakkai Shiba walks at almost all of his shows." She explains while swiping through some of his designs. 

"No way! I love his clothes, why didn't you tell me sooner?" you whine looking at all the emails his assistant has sent your manager over the last two weeks. You feel yourself basically shaking in excitement at the thought of walking for one of your new favorite designers. 

"I didn't think you even knew who he was, I didn't until I got her emails!" she explains pointing at the tablet in your hands, and to give her credit you had just discovered the upcoming designer recently. 

One of the other models at a photo shoot you were at was wearing a beautiful dress and when you asked her where she got it, she explained that Mitsuya had made it for her as a thank-you for modeling for him. Not only was the man extremely talented, but he also seemed really kind. 

You had always searched for his clothing at any store you had gone to, you never had any luck though. You were thinking about reaching out to him yourself but lately, your schedule has been extremely busy. This was the perfect opportunity you were searching for. 

"Tell him yes, anything he wants, yes I'll do it! If I have stuff scheduled when he needs me, cancel it!" you smile handing your manager her tablet back and standing up seeing now that your hair is done. "B-but what about the shoot with miu miu?" your manager sputtered quickly following behind you.

"Cancel it!" you smile closing your dressing room door in your manager's face. 

When Okamoto barged into Mitsuya's office sputtering about booking you he thought she was crazy. But when she showed him the email from your manager stating you agreed to walk the runway in his clothes he almost passed out. He immediately started stitching together your dress, too excited to sleep even though it was already past midnight.

Now two weeks later, he was almost done with the piece just having to add the tedious details and fix some stitching here and there. But it was also the day you'd come by for the first fitting and be meeting mitsuya for the first time. 

To say he was nervous was an understatement, he kept pricking his fingers while working on the other pieces for the show and stumbling over stray rolls of fabric. He didn't even realize the time until Okamoto came in telling him you'd be there in an hour, he quickly started to clean his office not wanting you to see the chaotic room. 

When he finally finishes cleaning the room he looks around for any stray items lying around. Not seeing a single thing hethrew himself onto his chair when a big sigh, he knew you should be here any moment. He was so nervous he keptthinking about what he'd say to you when he finally met you. 

"Thank you so much for accepting...no thank you for giving me the opportunity...no..." he sighed still not able to think properly when he heard his office door open. Quickly standing up he dusted himself off and watched as you and your manager walked in talking to Okamoto. 

"Yeah I was so jealous after she told me he had custom-made it for her, I was tempted to steal it from her dressing room when she wasn't there!" Mitsuya watched you as you laughed while readjusting your purse on your arm, he doesn't think he's seen a more beautiful woman. 

You were wearing a simple outfit, a black long-sleeve turtle neck, some dark-washed jeans, and a pair of black boots. It was nothing special but Mitsuya thought you looked amazing, he couldn't even bring himself to say something when you looked at him. 

"Oh my god, it's so nice to finally meet you! I've been waiting for this day since Saki told me about this!" you exclaimed briefly motioning over to your manager but quickly making your way to Mitsuya shaking his hand. He could only smile in response a little too shocked to say anything at the moment. 

"Really? I didn't even think you knew who I was..." he awkwardly laughed while shaking your hand "I just discovered you recently from Momo? I'm sure you remember her, you made her that gorgeous custom dress! I've been searching for some of your pieces in stores but I've had no luck" 

Mitsuya was loss for words the more you kept talking, you knew who he was? And you were on the hunt for some of his clothing on your own time? Not even saying anything he immediately bowed at a 90-degree angel "Thank you so much, you don't know how much that means to me, seriously" 

You immediately begin to panic "What? What do you mean I haven't done anything!" you say while bringing him up by his shoulders "You agreeing to model my clothes is good enough, you're a very sought-after model y/n. You wearing my clothes is bound to help me take off as a designer so I thank you." 

You can feel your face flush a bit, you've never had someone be so sincere to you in this industry before. Now you realize you've made a great choice by agreeing to model for Mitsuya, you hope you can continue to work with him in the future. 

"Ok let's get to work before you make me cry or somethin'.." you softly joke taking off your bag and handing it to you Saki "Oh I'm sorry I didn't mean to- ok yeah let's get to work!" Mitsuya stumbles putting his glasses on and grabbing his sketchbook.

"You can take a seat over there if you'd like" Mitsuya motions over to a couch in the corner of his office when he notices your manager aimlessly standing around "Oh thank you, do you mind if I make a few calls and whatnot?" she sighs taking a seat with your stuff. 

"No of course not, if you need anything just ask me or Okamoto" he waves off now walking over to you "I actually already started working on the piece if you'd like to see it? Or even try it on?" he mutters flipping through his sketchbook"Of course I'd like to try it on!" 

The rest of the day was spent talking and getting to know each other while Mitsuya tailored the dress to fit you better and went over the rest of the look with you. He also asked for your input and what you thought would look good or what you'd like to wear, you could help having a small crush on the man after leaving his office that night. 

It's now been two months since you and Mitsuya first met and you two have gotten a lot closer since that day. Some nights after you've finished with your fittings for other designers you'd invite Mitsuya out for dinner, wanting to talk the man more.

And if you two weren't out for dinner you were constantly texting, but now that his show is this weekend you haven't heard much from him. You weren't too surprised you imagined he was extremely busy trying to finish the last details for the show and whatnot, but you had to admit you missed him. 

You just finished with a small photoshoot for a magazine when you checked your phone and saw that he still hadn't responded to your message from this morning. "Loverboy hasn't answered you?" you turn to glare at Saki who ignores you while packing up your stuff. 

"I told you to stop calling him that…but no he hasn't answered" You sigh grabbing your bag from her arm and begin to walk out of the studio "Do you want to stop by his office?" you almost trip when walking down the stairs "What? We can't just stop by his office like that, he's probably really busy!"

Saki only shrugs her shoulders while opening the door to the building allowing you to go first "Why not? You can bring him a coffee or something, I'm sure he'd appreciate it" You bite your lip contemplating it a bit, you really did want to see the man but you also didn't want to bother him if he were busy. 

"Ok yeah let's go, but we have to get coffee from the place by his office, he really likes that place!" you explain while getting into the back of the car with Saki who playful rolls her eyes "Yeah I know you've only told me a thousand times how much he likes that place."

Now standing outside of Mitsuya's office with his and your order in one hand and a box of pastries in the other you wonder if this was a good idea. You two had hung out plenty of times but you'd never shown up at his office unannounced and you hoped your sudden arrival didn't annoy him. 

Before you can even think about turning around his office door opens and you see a beautiful girl walking out on the phone. She doesn't notice you at first too immersed in her conversation but when she does she gives a look of confusion and then goes wide-eyed. 

"Are you here for Takashi?" at first you thought she was one of the other models walking in his show but when she refers to him by his first name you begin to doubt it. Who exactly was she? Mitsuya never mentioned a girlfriend before or anything similar. 

"Yazuha can you go to the bakery down the street and get us some stuff?" you hear someone call from Mitsuya's office making the girl roll her eyes. "Actually it looks like someone is here for Takashi" She then motions for you to walk into the office as she continues her way out the door still on the phone. 

When you walk in you see Mitsuya looking in your direction with a confused face which quickly morphs into a smile "Y/n! What are you doing here?" he quickly makes his way over to you grabbing the sweets and drinks out of your hand and placing them on his desk. 

You quickly glance over the man standing in what you assume will be his runway outfit and back towards Mitsuya "I just wanted to see you, plus you never answered my messages. So I thought you could use some fuel or whatever…I didn't think you'd have other people over I should've gotten more" 

You begin to look through your bag for your wallet going to ask the other man what he'd like "Don't worry about it y/n, I'm sorry for not answering your messages I've been finishing up Hakkai's piece all day. I'm almost done, if you want we can all go grab dinner together or something?" 

You didn't even realize he was leading you to sit over on the couch until you were seated "Oh uh- ok yeah that's fine with me" Then it hits you that you didn't even introduce yourself to the other person in the room. 

"I'm so sorry I'm y/n, I guess we'll be walking in the show together it's nice to meet you" You smile up at the very tall man who just turns away from you with a blank look on his face. What the hell was his deal "This is Hakkai, he's not good at talking to girls so don't take offense. And the girl outside is his sister, Yazuha, I've known both of them since middle school."

You watch Mitsuya continue to work on a few pieces of Hakkai's suit while the boy doesn't say anything just then Yazuha walks back in "Don't bother talking to that guy, he can't talk to girls" You turn to her with a small smile while Mitsuya softly laughs "Yeah Mitsuya's already told me, I'm y/n it's nice to meet you" 

Unlike her brother Yazuha has no problem talking to you "Yeah I know, who wouldn't? You're like one of the top models right now, I thought Takashi was lying when he said he booked you." she muttered while shaking your hand. 

"Ah I'm so glad Okamoto reached out to my manager, it's been so nice working with Mitsuya I hope he and I can keep working together in the future!" You hear Mitsuya curse a bit under his breath "Are you ok Taka-Chan?" you turn and watch as Mitsuya nods sucking on his thumb.

"Y-yeah just pricked my finger a bit, but yeah I've really enjoyed working with you too y/n…" he smiles, and you note his ears are red. You return a bashful smile and turn back towards Yazuha who's giving you a smug look "Right…well if you start working with Takashi a lot then you'll be seeing us a lot too so let's be good friends" 

You've always had after-show jitters but right now you feel like your heart is going to explode out of your chest. The show went great but before the show, you barely had any time to actually talk to Mitsuya, just a quick prep talk and good luck. But right before the show actually started he had told you to immediately find him afterwards. 

You wondered the entire time what is it that he wanted to talk to you about, then you wondered what he'd have to say about your walk. What if he hated it and never wanted you to model for his clothes ever again? You didn't even notice when he knocked on your dressing room door, too preoccupied with your thoughts. 

You only realized he was there when he gently opened the door "Y/n? Are you in here?" you quickly walked over to the door opening it the rest of the way "Oh I'm sorry I wasn't sure you were in here" you notice he has a big bouquet of flowers and an even bigger gift bag in his hand. 

Unable to say anything you just pull him into your dressing room and close the door "Sorry I didn't hear you knocking on the door" you mutter turning to look at him. He doesn't say anything and neither do you for a while until he holds out the bouquet "These are for you…"

You take the flowers from him and notice their your favorite flowers in your favorite color. You also notice how nicely they're wrapped, they had to be really expensive "Mitsuya, these are gorgeous…thank you so much." 

He only shrugs with a shy smile on his face "I wanted you to have something nice… I-I did my best to wrap them but I've never done it before so I'm sorry if it looks a bit sloppy…" He rambles while gently grabbing them from your hands and setting them down. 

You couldn't believe that he took the time to wrap the flowers himself, they look professionally done. You couldn't even deny it anymore if you wanted, you've totally fallen for Mitsuya. He's been nothing but good to you since you first met and watching the way he treats his friends and other models shows that he's just a great guy. 

"Mitsuya they're gorgeous, they look perfect seriously, thank you so much for these." you mutter still admiring the beautiful bouquet "Oh well I'm glad you like them, I also have this for you…" he whispers placing the huge gift bag on a chair in the room leaving you to open it.

You wonder what can be in the bag, it's massive but when you peek inside the bag you don't really see much. Turning to him to give him a suspicious look he just shrugs his shoulders with a cheeky smile "Open it" Turning back towards the bag you pull out the tissue paper. 

At first, you just see some fabric but when you pull it out you notice it's a gorgeous dress. Looking at all the intricate details you're lost for words "Do you like it..?" you hear Mitsuya ask while he walks up closer to you "You made this for me?" 

You turn towards him now holding the dress close to your chest as if he just threatened to take it from you "Yeah I made it last week, if you don't like something I can- No!" he looks at you wide-eyed at your interruption "Sorry but no Mitsuya it's- it's…I seriously don't have words I can't believe you made this for me?" 

He can't help the cocky grin on his face "I'm so glad you like it…" Then you notice his smile falter a bit "Would you like to wear it tonight to dinner…" Was he asking you out right now? Like a real date? "With me I mean" he quickly clarified seeing your blank look.

You seriously wanted to jump for joy but decided against it to not embarrass yourself "Like just you and me…? No Yazuha or Hakkai?" you don't want to get your hopes up too soon "Yes y/n just you and me, no Hakkai or Yazuha, just us. Like a date" he softly laughed walking towards you grabbing one of your hands. 

You got one little hop in before you stopped yourself "S-sorry I'm just really happy right now" you explain when he gives you a funny look "But yes, I'd love to go on a date with you Mitsuya" you mutter now too shy to look him in the eyes.

"Ok great, I'll wait outside for you then we can go" he smiles softly rubbing the back of your hand with his thumb "Ok I'll get dressed right now!" you laugh gently pushing him out of your dressing room and quickly grab your phone to tell Saki she can leave without you. 

[taxfruad4ever]

If you’re taking requests… How does Shadow react when his SO is sick? It’s been plaguing my mind. I imagine not super well considering him having to take care of Maria and her sickness. Can be head canons or fic. Super protective mode activate!!!!

RAAHHHH I LITERALLY STARTED WRITING SOMETHING LIKE THIS TO POST SOON JUST AS I GOT UR ASK!!!

Warnings: Unbearable amounts of fluff.

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

Shadow sat in your dimly lit bedroom, the sun just barely dipping below the horizon, casting stunning rays of golden light throughout the room. He perched on the edge of your bed as he stared down at you. His usual stoic expression was tinged with a hint of unease as he watched you struggle with a fever, a bullet of sweat trickling down your forehead and across your cheek. His gaze unwavering as it remained fixated on you, silently calculating the severity of your condition. Every time you would cough or shiver, Shadow would tense up, unconsciously clenching his fists into your sheets.

He knew he should say something, offer some comfort or reassurance, but the words stuck in his throat. Instead, he continued to watch you intently, and he found himself reaching out to gently brush the sweat-dampened hair away from your forehead. The gesture was awkward, almost forced, and he quickly retracted his hand as if the contact burned.

"I can feel you staring at me..." you spoke wearily, fluttering your eyes open, for the first time in hours; warm and tired gaze meeting his.

He didn't respond, only reaching out to grasp your hand, stroking his thumb over your knuckles; his grip firm and caring.

You let out a drained chuckle, closing your eyes again.

"How are you feeling?" he finally asked, the words coming out concerned and soft.

You vaguely waved your hand, scowling a bit as to simply say: "Meh".

Shadow cocked his head to the side, giving a small hum as he sighed drearily; finally pulling his gaze away from you.

There was a long silence that hung in the air, occasionally broken by the sound of you tossing and turning in your bed, or the quiet sound of yours and his shallow breathing.

"Do... you think she would be proud of me?" Shadow asked, now staring at the ground; an unreadable look painted onto his features.

Your feverish mind took a moment to puzzle together who he spoke of, before it clicked; Maria.

You simpered, raising your intertwined hands up to your lips, kissing the back of his hand.

"Of course she would..." you reassured him. You knew he was a rather troubled man— a new worry plaguing his mind each day— but you didn't mind; reassure and love him, you would always do. He was sensitive, caring and sweet at heart, though he would never admit it.

He leaned his head against your shoulder, now fully laying down as he finally let himself relax after a days worth of care taking and stress.

"I think she would be stoked to see you this happy now." You stated, kissing the shell of his ear, before returning to his chest. He let out a small hum of satisfaction as you did.

"Thank you for taking care of me.."

"Of course, my dear..." he mumbled into your hair, pulling you closer.

"But you didn't have to spend an hour looking for my favorite brand of chocolate." You mused, recalling how he had vigorously searched for the chocolate you wanted, even after you had profusely told him it was okay if he got the store brand.

He gave a chuckle, his snout still buried into your hair.

"Oh? Are you complaining?"

You chuckled.

"Of course not, dummy." He chuckled at your strange choice of endearment.

You buried your face into his chest fur. You loved doing this: hearing his heart beating, his deep voice reverberating in your head every time he spoke, and the way his silky fur tickled your nose. It was all perfect. You felt like you were loved and he was loved; you knew where you belonged, and it was in this fond, feverish, golden moment. In his arms.

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

I'll prob add some headcanons to this later, but for now, Baiiiiiiiii!!💖💖💖💖

edit: HOLY SHIT THIS GOT 200 NOTES??? HELP??? THANK YOU ALL SO MUCH AAAAAAAA

[buckgettingstruck]

also i dont mean to post about discourse just for the sake of arguing about characterization or believing myself to be right over another person. ive posted about it because i see the way some people write about it to be harmful. and its not just something one or two people have posted that im trying to vague about — i’ve seen many posts, whether it be on my dash or sent to me directly via my inbox or by a friend, by many people. if it was just one person i wouldnt really talk about it.

like with the buck being purposefully manipulative thing <- that kind of thing is usually an argument people make about people with borderline being abusive. i know buck doesn’t have bpd canonically but its distressing to see that kind of argument being pushed about a character who is often headcanonned as such (and not as a projection, but as a genuine reading of the character and his behaviors such as his crippling fear of abandonment and general lack of self identity) as a person who has suffered from that mental illness and has gone to great lengths to cope with it. even in just saying i have bpd, I’ve lost friends because of that belief. even if i haven’t split in front of them or shown actual symptoms yet. when you have those issues like i listed above you can’t really help yourself in the moment. you act impulsively — even if it can be read as manipulative.

and even in the eddie has bipolar disorder posts ive seen theres a great deal of just. misinformation. mania isnt being happy or having fun. mania isn’t THINKING about moving to texas to be close with the son you’ve been missing for months or enlisting to provide for your family as a teenager with no real work experience. its not dancing in your underwear to find joy again. mania is often seen as severe irritability and going days without sleep. its having grandiose thoughts about yourself.

these things can be harmful to the people who see them. the character is fake, sure, but i am and others who struggle with mental illness are very real people.

i wasn’t very eloquent in my post last night about it but i want to make myself clear now at least. hopefully i make a bit more sense — i was trying to be less personal about it before. i think you can understand why.

[egcdeath]

omg i loved loved loveddd that marriage fic of patrick zweig!! there is a serious shortage of patrick zweig x reader fics, I had a request actually if you could maybe write more of pregnant reader x patrick or maybe even newborn dad patrick (i have a soft spot for that& i loved the ending because of that) tysm!! :)

thank you and that prompt is so cute!! i’m currently super busy, so i really do not have the time/mental capacity for a whole fic so here’s a (long) list of headcanons!

also, i’m imagining the pairing from something old, something new, but you don’t have to read that to get this!

when you first tell patrick that you’re ready for kids, that man is ECSTATIC. in SOSN, they’re just “friends” but he definitely has feelings for her before they address it, so taking the step to start a family together is a huge one.

patrick suddenly starts believing alllll of the old wives tales and superstitions about pregnancy. you have to call him out for it every now and then like, “patrick, wtf??” and he’s always just like “i swear it’s true, i heard it from a friend of my friend’s aunt.” and you just give him a crazy look.

once you finally take a test and find out it’s official, the two of you are SO excited. patrick tries to lift you up and spin you off the ground but that almost instantly triggers your morning sickness.

that man is so excited to be a father. he’s constantly putting his hand on your tiny bump and reading books on parenting (you don’t know that you’d ever seen him read a book before then) and asking you about when you’re free to take baby related classes. you have to remind him that you’re really not that far along and he needs to chill.

he would be so accommodating to you. hold your hair back while you’re having morning sickness. wake up in the middle of the night to get the ingredients and make you a pickle watermelon salad. massage your swollen feet. he already loves and cares about you so much and he wants to be sure to give you and the baby the top tier of treatment ever.

patrick is very much a hot head who loves to argue. and i think in the early stages he might egg on your mood swings A LITTLE BIT. but i think pretty quickly he’d realize he needs to dial it back because arguing with a pregnant person is crazy. but every now and then you just want to argue with him to argue with him or old times sake, and when he ends up being the bigger person, you say something about it and he’ll humor you. i actually think it would be so funny if you and him had like . a safe word to indicate that you were just playing, that way he doesn’t say the wrong thing and make you cry or something.

specifically for the pair from sosn, i think that they would maybe vaguely mention that they were trying to get pregnant to their family, but they wouldn’t tell family until it can’t be hidden anymore. like sometimes you just want something to yourselves, and you know that if your families get involved, things will be WAYYYY blown out of proportion. you tell your friends, who are super happy for you, and you tell your family who are also very happy for you. your families immediately start debating about baby name and whose great grandma is going to be the baby’s namesake. patrick insists that there will be more than one baby to name, then winks at you.

as the baby approaches, he’s coming with you for appointments. it is his final season before he retires, so he is pretty busy, but he’s either flying to meet you or for you to meet him vice versa. he ends up having a tennis event end on the same day as one of your ultrasound appts and you’re SO sure that he isn’t going to be able to make it, but lo and behold. who comes running through the door just as the doctor starts applying that cold gel to your stomach??? you actually cry a few tears of joy. patrick kisses them off your face.

you’re struggling these last few months or pregnancy, but patrick has your back. i can see him being super accommodating during this time period, especially once his tennis commitments end.

he starts tearing through his books and making you come to all of these classes with him. you’re kinda having the time of your life bonding with your man and getting a little less anxious for your baby.

you go into labor in the middle of the night. patrick grabs your birth bag (the two of you have been preparing for this) and holds your hand the whole time that he’s speeding down the highway.

this man is full of theatrics when you get to the hospital. he’s yelling and shit. he’s asking all of the doctors where they went to school and if they’re qualified to take care of you. they’re sick and tired of him immediately. you wish you could be sick and tired of him but you’re actually to scared to care.

you’re in pain. he keeps telling you that he wishes he could take all your pain and give it to him. he’s so dramatic. you love him with all of your being.

your labor is not a short one, but he’s by your side for every single second that he can. he’s telling you stupid stories. he’s talking about things you’re gonna do with the baby when they arrive. he’s trying everything he can to distract you.

when it’s time to start pushing, he holds your hand again. you’re squeezing his hand so hard that it goes a little numb, but he doesn’t mention it. he’s cheering you on like you’re at a sporting event.

suddenly your baby is here. the two of you cry happy tears when you hold her. it’s the best moment of your lives.

adjusting to having a baby at home is definitely… something! the two of you consider hiring a nanny (as all rich people do) but ultimately decide against it. patrick is literally retired so like, stay at home dad era incoming!!

babies really are not glamorous so i’ll skip all the gross stuff and focus on the good.

you guys think the baby is the cutest thing on earth. even though you’re sleep deprived and stressed and still in a good amount of pain, you think that the baby is the best thing either of you have accomplished.

sometimes you watch in the doorway when patrick sings and rocks the baby to sleep. it is the cutest thing you’ve ever witnessed.

patrick lovessss a baby bjorn. he’s walking around the house chatting it up with your baby, just telling her about how much of a tennis legend he was back in the day, flipping pancakes in the kitchen with baby attached to him, etc etc. anything he can do, he swears baby can also do.

patrick is just so cute and sweet and gentle with the baby.

patrick girldad?? idk. just think about it.

patrick loves dressing up your daughter in silly little baby outfits. she loves it. you just shake your head in mock disapprovement while patrick brings the baby over to your face for a little cheek kiss, followed by his own cheek kiss. it’s very hard to be pretend disappointed after that.

once baby is a little older, i think the two of them would try to get her into tennis. maybe see if it’s her calling. it’s not. but she loves dancing, so that’s what she does!

the two of you are at every recital, watching her clumsily tot around. it’s so cute. patrick swears she has star power and is gonna be big some day. you lovingly roll your eyes at him. he insists it’s true.

your families also LOVEEEE the baby. i could see patrick being pretty overprotective from them at times too though, especially when they try to insist that she should be a certain way or do a certain thing.

the three of you are a very happy family. you were a little worried before you asked about how he might be as a father, or scared that he was going to run off at the proposition but he’s definitely taken to it.

i hope you enjoyed reading that as much as i enjoyed writing it! this was super fun to do and i would love to write more hcs for anyone who has any more ideas!!

[adyophene]

lucifer x husk is something i never knew i needed and as a multishipper im screaming

literally. king of hell x some alcoholic furry guy

i love them i need to know how they wouldve met, fallen for each other and started dating. and how much thatd piss alastor off

Ooh I am so happy other people are enjoying this pair as much as I am! I've gotten a few asks about my headcanons for them, and I am happy to blab on and on. Fair warning. This is gunna be a long and rambling essay.

I'm gunna put it all under a readmore, just cause I want to insert the art I've done of them so far, since I've been half-heartedly trying to tell a visual story through the doodles.

Okay. On we go!

How they met;

We did see them technically meet in the show, where they shared their singular canon piece of dialogue, which was just Husk saying 'hey'. And then in the finale where we see a literal split second moment of Lucifer holding Husk's arm.

(also seeing the sweet looks huskerdust is giving each other here just makes me feel so delulu for writing this all, but crackships are silly by definition, so lets get back to the lucihusk) For me, what I imagined, is after the Hotel is finished its rebuilding, that is when Husk and Lucifer finally actually meet in a proper manner. I think Lucifer would be trying to make a good impression on all Charlie's friends at this point, endeared to all of them from their actions during the finale. Unfortunately, I think he is also the King of Bad First Impressions.

[Note. I think at this point Lucifer wouldn't even remember Husk's name quite yet. I think he would call him 'Keekee' ( by accident) or 'Dusk' (confidently incorrect) or just be like "Hey!.... Uh... You?" until Charlie or Vaggie finally corrected him. ]

Husk, on the other hand, I feel like maybe wouldn't gel with Lucifer right away. Wouldn't hate him, but also maybe not be enamored with him right away. Same as Lucifer, maybe he would have sweetened on him a bit through the hotel's rebuilding, but I think they'd start out at very neutral feelings. Maybe a vague sense of 'He's okay, but I don't know if we will really get along.'

Despite this, Lucifer is persistent, and he's going to be everyone's (except maybe Al, unless they start getting along by s2) buddy. He'd start hanging around the bar and participate in the redemption exercises.

Now, we know Lucifer struggles with depression, and I think he would be trying real hard to mask anything going on during this time. They defeated Adam! They rebuilt the Hotel! He believes in Charlie's dream, and he's more involved with her life and other people than he has been for years.

His only issue being Husk sees right through it, both because Husk is perceptive, but also because even the King of Hell can't help but have a lonely night or two at the bar where he ends up venting about his divorce and subsequent lingering loneliness.

[snapcube ref aside, )I really do think Husk would start to feel more positively toward Lucifer after Luci would drop the act somewhat. That they could bond over feeling both at their lowest of lows, while also being to admit that things seem to be getting better!

This would be about the point that I imagine Lucifer developing more romantic feelings! Husk would be a bit less prickly, and Luci would just absolutely eat up any and all positive interactions they'd have. I like to picture a lot of little shows of care at the this point, like Husk memorizing what Lucifer likes and even making up 'fun' drinks just to try and cheer the guy up. And Lucifer would fun a fun game in trying to get the grumpy cat to smile, and just, lighting up himself any time he was successful.

And that culminating into the two of them making each other laugh, with Alastor being an easy butt of the jokes, and a good way for Husk, himself, to finally get a chance to vent. I think Lucifer would be one of the only 'safe' options for Husk to do that with, in just so far as Al can't really threaten Lucifer, and Lucifer already sees Al as a bit of a manipulative bastard.

Falling for each other; At this point, Lucifer would start being a bit more caring toward Husk, though with that wonderful, oblivious flair of his. I don't think Lucifer himself would realize he'd have a crush up until he'd start feeling protective or jealous over Husk, and it would really throw him for a loop at first.

Because fake dating is one of my all-time favorite tropes, I have always had a idea for a fanfic (or comic) that I haven't gotten around to yet, based around Lilith coming back, and Lucifer panickily asking Husk to pretend to be his boyfriend, so he can appear well adjusted/completely over her. Of course the whole thing would backfire, as Lilith would see through it (as Lucifer wouldn't be as good of an actor as he'd think), and that Husk would end up kind of feeling hurt by the whole thing.

Husk, who'd go along with the plot with an eyeroll, would find himself seizing up through the whole fake date/encounter. Would find weird, sudden emotions bubbling up and absolutely hating it.

I don't think that man would think about the class difference between him and Lucifer up until someone would say something about it, maybe Lucifer himself trying to rationalize the (at this time still fake) relationship to Lilith. Now, Husk feels uneasy about the whole thing and ends up drinking heavily the whole night so he doesn't have to think about feelings. (Blitz and Stolas who? Ahaha. fuck.) Meanwhile, while the date would be fake, I think Lucifer would really rather like having Husk on his arm and feeling like he'd have a love-life again, while also not really getting why Husk's mood would be getting worse throughout the night. I think they'd still end up on good terms, but both of them would have their feelings in a jumble, and Husk would not like it. (he thinks he's lost the ability to love, after all)

I think somewhere at this point, as they are starting to develop feelings for one another, is when Lucifer finally starts really realizing how tied to Alastor Husk is, and he starts to make it everyone's problem. I do think Al and Lucifer would stay snarky at each other this whole time, but that it'd only get worse, as Al would poke back since he'd find Lu's over reactions funny.

I also think Al would be maybe the last person to realize anything romantic would be brewing between Lucifer and Husk, and he'd just think it'd be a purely platonic thing.

Beyond just bitching about Alastor, Lucifer would really be ramping up his attention towards Husk too. Fully in that 'puppylove/crush' stage, and trying his darndest to make Husk feel good and special. Husk would be resistant to it all, thinking it would just be Lucifer rebounding hard, and not wanting to get wrapped up in Morningstar family drama when he could happily (miserably) keep his head down and just keep drinking the days away.

But then Lucifer would find out about Husk's love of stage magic, and his history as a performer, and it'd be all over for the catman. It would become Luci's new pet project to rope Husk into some joyful self-expression, and after a song and dance number's worth of convincing, Husk would start to come around. I have to post all these images now cause- I drew them with the intention of mimicking a musical number! Husk starting off as a bit resistant before jumping in whole heartedly, and Lucifer overexcitedly dragging him along throughout the music number, hyping him up and just all around being smitten.

And this is where Husk would start really falling. Getting swept up in indulging his favorite, least destructive hobby, and having someone who absolutely loves it to bond with. Especially when it would be over. When they would just settle down and talk, and laugh, and bond over what they love about performing. The spectacle, the audience, the love of the craft. Its about the comradery!!!

@belladonazeppole wrote a wonderful series of fanfics based off these pictures, as well as the songs from 'The Greatest Showman' that really fit the ship! I would be remiss to not mention them here, because Bella and their fics are just wonderful!

How they started dating;

Now. Don't think just cause they both caught feelings for each other, that they'd immediately admit to it. No. I think both of them would drag their heels. I don't think Husk would admit to them at all, without some outside force effecting it. I think he'd stubbornly try to ignore the crush or drink it away, rather than let his heart become vulnerable to anymore damage.

Meanwhile, Lucifer would be struggling between his feelings for Husk and Lilith. (In the actual canon, I do think they might try to rekindle things, depending on what kind of person Lilith turns out to be, but I digress.) Part of him would be so swept up in a giddy kind of excitement, while the other would be set firmly in the camp of 'this is a bad idea, this won't work out, just look at what happened to your last relationship'. It wouldn't stop him from being outwardly more and more affectionate, but it would be weighing on him.

I do think Lucifer would end up being the one who would be thinking; "What am I doing. He'd never like me back." While Husk would be just sitting there (echoing what was said in the ask- sorry I went all wild and wrote this much about the ship dear god)- "I'm just some fucking furry alcoholic, what the fuck would the king of hell see in me??? Am I delusional? What the fuck is going on??" And I feel like this stage would go on for MONTHS and drive everyone else nuts. It would be clear to everyone (except Alastor, who again, would be just this meme

Though that wouldn't stop him from getting a little pissy about it) And then it would all come to a head during something benign, like a board game night. There would be flirting, there would be jealousy, there would be arguing, and then finally, loudly and with a lot of feeling, Lucifer would shout his way through asking Husk out on a date. A real Date. A capital 'D' date out on the town, dressed to the nines and a real good time. The board would be knocked over in the fray, game pieces raining down upon them while Husk would just stare blank faced, trying to process what just happened. An awkward half-minute would pass before he'd finally, trying to play it cool, shrug out a 'sure'.

How much it'd piss Alastor off;

In the aftermath, a radio static would just lowly grate everyone's ears as Alastor would be slowly coming to terms on how just annoying it would be to have his friend (/Unhealthy co-dependent pet friend possession??) romantically involved (ew) with the King of Hell (double ew)??? Then, either it would be something light hearted like 'he keeps trying to break them up but failing cause he hates interacting with romance' or a darker route where 'he keeps trying to manipulate them into breaking up by preying on all their worst insecurities in the relationship'.

And that, my friend, is all I have in mind so far for this delusional crackship au! There is more I could flesh out, of course, like Angel's role as a friend or potential third in the relationship, or what I imagine as Husk becoming like a stepdad to Charlie, but I've typed enough for the whole month. Hope any of that was coherent! I did not bother to edit or proof read it. Just pure stream of consciousness.

[project-sekai-facts]

Hey I'm the anon from this ask (https://www.tumblr.com/project-sekai-facts/764142926583431168/im-curious-why-you-feel-confident-in-saying-that?source=share) just wanted to say thank you so much for the response!! After reading that and more carefully rereading the stuff in the original mizuki trans post I agree with what you're saying about it being pretty much explicitly confirmed in-game Because of the many bad faith interpretations of my ask I wanted to explain where it came from a bit. I had just come out of listening to another friend doompost/get annoyed about the "vagueness" of the event story and how it wasn't settling the trans vs crossdresser "debate" (heavy quotes there) when I saw the new reblog you made to the mizuki trans post with the line of her being explicitly transgender.

I wanted to hear where you got that from because it was also the impression that I got after reading the story but I was struggling with putting it into words when talking with said friend - honestly i probably could have phrased the ask better but oh well that's tumblr for you.

I've always read her as trans but I've weird feelings about what "being canon" means for a long time hence my fears about jumping the gun - I tended to see it as "you need to have complete 100% proof that it's true that can rebuke all bad faith arguments, and if it doesn't you can accept it as a popular headcanon with some canon support but don't go implying that it's canon" but putting it into words like that makes me realize that that's not a good approach. And just seeing you repeatedly say things like mizuki being in-text confirmed to be trans for 4 years has helped me feel more confident in that and reassess my relationship with canonity in general so genuinely, thank you so much for that.

P.S. damn that ended up being much longer than i thought this was going to be lol. if you don't want to post this for whatever reason that's understandable, don't feel obligated to

No problem! And I'm really sorry for the flack people were giving you in the tags you literally said you wanted Mizuki to be trans in your ask. It's probably because of my response being pretty general and not necessarily directed at you for the most part; i had gotten like 4 other asks about "what are the chances mizuki is a crossdresser" so I just picked one to answer.

I mean yeah technically for it to be 100% canon it should be explicitly stated, but I tend to go off the rules that so long as there's enough sub/textual evidence and very little room for doubt, it's good as canon. Like when I said before that An and Kohane have canon romantic feelings - it's never been said outright but the evidence to prove it with little doubt is there. Technically the term canon refers to a series of works that take place in the same universe, but in fandom the term is often used to describe if character traits or ships are official or not. So Mizuki technically isn't officially a trans girl until they change the gender marker on her bio, but this event removed what little room there was for doubt, so I at the very least would consider it to be canon.

[forgeofthenine]

Hi, can i request our fav tieflings finding Tav who was hiding from everyone cus they were having a panic/anxiety attack? And tieflings comforting them?

Could be before them forming a relationship, could be after, however you prefer ^^

This one was an interesting request to write, particularly because I had to base the headcanons on both my own experiences and what I know of how other people experience anxiety attacks. I ended up deciding to be fairly vague about things, but all the tieflings are in an existing relationship with the reader in these :)

The bachelors helping their partner through a panic attack

Dammon

Dammon knows pretty quick when you seemingly disappear, especially if he already thinks you might not be doing so well

It doesn't take him long to find you hidden away in your shared bedroom, the panic radiating from you obvious to the tiefling

He's very aware that if he isn't careful it could make things worse

You'll find he's very careful with getting your attention, gently making his presence known

Dammons first response once he does have your attention is to check if he can touch you

There's no way he's touching you unless you initiate or tell him it's okay

If you do let him, you can expect to be wrapped up in a huge warm hug

Dammons breath on your ear as he talks you through it, using a mix of deep pressure therapy and his words

It's easy to focus on the feeling of him when your boyfriend acts like a weighted blanket for you

Warm hands rub over your arms, slow repetitive motions that sooth you as soon as he does it

Dammons careful with comforting you, and he's happy to sit with you curled up against him for hours if it's what you need

Zevlor

Zevlor always has a little latent worry for you, no matter what

He's lived through a lot and he knows how overwhelming anxiety feels

When he sees you struggling he keeps a better eye on you, and when you slip away for too long he'll go check in on you

It's when he finds you hyperventilating alone in your shared room that his heart absolutely breaks

Zevlor is quick to get your attention before anything gets worse, bringing your focus back to him

He's the type to take you through breathing exercises, leading you with his own breathing

It doesn't matter how many times he has to restart or regain your focus, he'll stay there for as long as it takes

And you can guarantee that once you're settled again he'll take the rest of the day to spoil you

You'd like a kiss? Absolutely, you look cold too, let him wrap this fluffy blanket around you

Zevlor delivers you food and drinks for the next couple days, knowing you're eating and drinking eases the tieflings own anxiety

Rolan

Rolan can act like he's better than others or that people are just an inconvenience to him, but he loves the people close to him fiercely

You're one of the people he's very protective of, possibly even moreso than Cal or Lia

When he finishes up with running the tower for the day and stumbles on you having a panic attack he's already kicking himself

Once Rolan has your attention he knows exactly what he's going to try to ground you

He leads you through the 5-4-3-2-1 technique

Name 5 things you can see, 4 you can feel, 3 you can hear, 2 you can smell, and 1 you can taste

Rolans so patient as he encourages you through it, holding your hands and praising you for every thing you can name

He's another that barely lets you out of his sight for the next few hours, but he tries to be smooth about it

Runs you a relaxing bath with all the extras, asks if he can wash your hair for you, the whole nine yards

Beneath his spiky exterior Rolan is truly very caring and sweet, a bit like a bright red magically inclined mother hen

[2000sangel]

Can you please do headcanons with Angel and Husk with a reader who suffers from chronic pain/illness and how’d they’d help reader get through it? Platonic or romantic is up to you! It’s okay if you can’t but thank you so much if you do.

Hey there! Of course I can, I decided to go with chronic pain though it’s written pretty vaguely, so it can be relatable to a wider audience; and for anyone struggling with this, make sure you rest a bunch :)

Angel and Husk with a Reader who has Chronic pain/illness

Angel Dust

✧Angel is a very caring boyfriend; he remembers all the meds that you’re supposed to take and at what time, and if you forget about taking them he’s going to gently scold you and remind you that this is important for your health.

✧However, his life is pretty busy with him having to be on set for most of the day, so he can’t really take care of you the way he’d rather do it. Still, he’ll take a few breaks to remind you to take your medicine at the right time and entrust somebody else to take care of you if you’re having a particularly bad day.

✧Speaking of bad days, every single morning before he goes to work he’ll stop by your room; if you’re already awake he’ll tell you to text him if there is a problem and you two will share a kiss as good luck to both of you; if you’re still sleeping, he’ll gladly leave a neatly written note on your nightstand where he reminds you how much he loves you and tells you he hopes that you have a good day, and to obviously text him if something’s wrong.

Good Morning Sweets, I hope you slept fine, and that today goes well! Leave me a message if you need, I’ll try to check my phone for you. I love you a bunch, -Anthony <3

✧At the end of the day, expect a lot of cuddles and kisses! He’ll ask you how it went and if you managed to carry out any of your projects. At the start of the relationship he might even avoid talking about his own struggles because he knows you have to deal with yours every day, but as you two get more comfortable so will the relationship, and you’ll be genuine with each other, as the other will always be there for comfort.

Husk

✦Husk may appear grumpy, but as I said probably a million times at this point, he’s the exact opposite in a relationship, especially if you struggle with chronic pain or illness. He’ll be extra careful not to cause you any additional pain or fatigue, and will be thinking of you pretty much the whole time when you’re resting in your room.

✦Alcohol doesn’t really help with chronic pain and illness, so he’s willing to mix you non-alcoholic cocktails and of course prepare something extra for you, such as a breakfast in bed here...a favourite dish as lunch there...he’s skilled in the kitchen! So he does so both because he enjoys it and because it lessens your strain.

✦He can also be a bit of a couch potato, so he doesn’t really mind if you sometimes prefer to have little dates at the Hotel because you’re not feeling the best. Watching some TV to distract you sounds good enough to him, as long as you get to spend time together and he gets to comfort you with his purrs.

✦If you’re having a particularly bad day, he will do anything for you; bring you your meds, remind you to eat and drink, he will even take breaks from tending to the bar to check on you. Alastor doesn’t mind him doing that either.

✦- This only applies if you’re dating both of them – Husk will always be appointed to look after you by Angel while he’s at work if you’re in pain, and he doesn’t mind it one bit. You will receive lots of love once Angel comes home, from both him and Husk, and the playful banter between the two will surely be able to distract you a bit.  

[idyllghost]

I’m stoned but you wanna know a headcanon I have that has the potential to hurt; Arthur slipping up and calling Miss Grimshaw mom.

Like I just know in my heart during his upbringing Arthur would accidentally call Miss Grimshaw mom. With every question, her demands for him to wash up, and general concern for him it would just slip from his lips. A simple “Okay mom.” And an immediate embarrassment as Miss Grimshaw smiled. And it comes so naturally to call her that, because despite his limited memories of Beatrice Morgan something about the way Miss Grimshaw’s warm hands would stroke his hair during fevers and stern voice reminded him of her. She reminded him of something so intrinsically tied to home. Regardless, he’d get embarrassed over his slip ups but, Miss Grimshaw’s heart would soften every time it happened because in the end, just like Dutch and Hosea, Arthur was her son. It was evident to anyone who watched them closely for a while that she held a soft spot for Arthur; honestly for both her boys and young Tilly. She raised that boy right along with Dutch and Hosea. That very fact is what made what Dutch called ‘Arthur watch’ so hard for her.

Everyone was vaguely aware of Eliza and Isaac. It wasn’t ever really a secret. Arthur, despite being scared shitless at the prospect of having a child and sporadic visits, it was evident Arthur was proud to have a son. Which is why when Arthur came back early from visiting Eliza and Isaac everyone’s stomach sank. His eyes were hidden behind the shadow of his hat as the sun began to retire for the day. Arthur didn’t have to speak a word that night for everyone to gather what had happened; that he’d lost them.

He’d hidden in his tent for days, barely eating and only crying faintly in the night when everyone else should have been asleep. Eyes red rimmed and glazed as tired hands clumsily made coffee in the mornings. He’d also gotten careless during jobs, getting injured more frequently and spacing. Miss Grimshaw herself suspected that was only the surface of what was going on in his head, after all he was always a quiet child so bottling up his emotions so tight they’d struggle to surface would only be second nature. It’s knowing this that made Dutch implement ‘Arthur Watch’. A way to, as Dutch put it, “make sure he’s safe”. A way that had the tension in the room spiking and Dutch’s voice shaking as he explained it.

 It had to have been midnight with the way the moon glared in her face when Hosea shook Miss Grimshaw awake to replace him in watching Arthur. She was rubbing the sleep out of her eyes when she approached his tent, barely comprehending the sounds that faintly escaped it. But once the last bit of sleep left her mind she was able to fully hear it; fully understand. It was soft cries, muffled in an attempt to conceal them, and her heart broke. Her movements halted and her breath hitched as her heart broke at the pain she heard. But, she steeled herself, lifted his tent flap, and entered. She let out a soft and raspy“Arthur?” And she inevitably heard rustling and a mumbled curse as he lit his lantern. With the light illuminating his face she saw every sharp curve and edge, the thin skin below his eyes almost bruised from restless nights. The red rim around his eyes combined with their puffed up state. His cheeks ruddy and damp. 

“Oh Arthur,” before she realized it she was sitting on his cot and patting his shoulder and he slumped into her touch. His body and mind tired. She pulled him closer to her, a way reminiscent in the way she’d pull him to her when he was barely 15 and waking up screaming from night terrors. With his heavy head on her shoulder she combed through his hair with her hand. “It’s okay son, you’ll be okay.” With those words the floodgates opened as he sobbed into her shoulder and all she could do was hold him through the pain. He only lifted his head up to gasp for air and croak out, “It hurts… Mom it hurts.” And her heart broke even more as she held him closer to her. 

[amelissaofficinalis]

#14DWY  Amour Sans Fin

#14DWY fanfic 

Amour Sans Fin: Endless Love

<traumatized Angel consulting Ren/[Redacted] about nightmare in the midnight>

Minors PLEASE Don’t Interact

*Headcanon

*Assuming this all happens after engagement

*Angel is gender neutral; mostly use he/him as Ren/[Redacted]’s pronouns

*My first language isn’t English. Excuse me for the unexpected funny confusion <3

Word count: 1000(+-)

----------

I used to toss and turn all night, devoured by fears and helplessness before I found you.

Two broken souls are now nestling together, dragging each other away from the abyss of the past.

We have each other now.

-----------

You were woken up by a slight movement, humming in confusion. Your eyelashes shivered faintly when the one beside you pressed a soft kiss.

“[Redacted]?” You squinted your eyes, and then you realized it’s 3 am. You could barely recognize his face in the darkness, only hearing his faint breath. The one near you remained silent, locking his ocean-blue eye on you.

“Are you alright…?”

“…’m fine.”

His voice was calm and comforting, but you had an instinct that something was off-track about him right now, so you struggled to get up, leaning yourself on him slowly and gently. His rapid heartbeat betrayed him, desperately revealing the truth for you, just for you.

He COULD act perfectly like nothing happened, but he hesitated because of the faint hope you gave to him as you said: “I’d love to know ALL of you, as how you saw me when I cried and grieved.” He knew you’d despise him if he told you, but what if, maybe, you would give him some… pity? This wasn’t enough because he CRAVED love, but he couldn’t dare to expect more if he revealed his past. Probably because of the confidence boosted by the fact that you two were engaged, this stupid idea echoed in his head. It was the first time he couldn’t be prepared before you checked on him.

For a long while, none of you moved an inch. As you heard his heartbeat stabilize, you reached out to hug him, rubbing your face against his collarbone.

“I love you more than anything or anyone else.” You murmured quietly, but you knew he could hear every word from you. “You have me now. All for yourself.”

His eyes widened in disbelief. He had just dreamed he was the helpless kid he abhorred again. He had just woken up in fear as the whole world abandoned him, but right now you just stayed beside him, confessing your love and affection to him. You were lively, warm, and soft.

This is REAL.

“I love you too.” He kind of choked on his words. He couldn’t think of anything else but just repeat this straightforward commitment again and again. Then, he quietly sighed, “I don’t deserve you, Angel.”

Your brow rose in disagreement. The fact that he saw you, the complete and real you, and still chose to love and devote to you for ages was far more than enough for you. He held you and hid you under his wings. If you stared at your photos with him, you would see bright admiration in both his and your eyes, but you knew that you couldn’t convince him with words. Instead, you snuggled with him, holding his hands.

He seemed to relax, and you started to wonder what happened. Your words slipped from your lips before you gave it a second thought. “What’s wrong?”

“I…” He tensed up again and shivered faintly. He suddenly felt he couldn’t hold back anymore, but he just bit his lip and shut his eyes close, not letting sounds escape from his throat. But you still heard those vague groans. He bit it too hard so that his lower lips became pale and might bruise. You couldn’t stand letting him hurt himself, so you caressed his lips, trying to comfort him by patting his back at the same time.

“It’s okay. You don’t have to say anything if you don’t want to.”

He caged you by his arms tightly, unconsciously caressed your back when he buried his face into your shoulder.

 “I just couldn’t… I had no choice…I…I never wanted to…” He sobbed while feeling comforted and safe around your aurora.

You couldn’t understand what he was talking about, but you guessed it.

Vaguely, probably about the past. You were as broken as him before you met him. You used to curl up desperately inside the closet, whispering things you didn’t even understand. Your mind fell into a void and your vision blurred. Then he came along. He sat down on the floor, staring at the closed closet as if he could see through the inside.

“Knock, knock.”

His fingers gently knocked on the closet, but he didn’t say anything else, nor did he open the closet. You noticed him, staring back through the tiny gap. For a long while, he just sat there and waited patiently. Finally, you pushed the closet door timidly to test the water. He immediately reached out your hand, fingers intertwined. You couldn’t hold back burst into tears and dive into his hug. You cried out loud like a kid but with relief because you finally found long-lost soul fragments. He kissed your eyelids and told you he loved you and would guard you, again and again, and you almost melted in his embrace. The emptiness within was seamlessly woven whole.

And now you just wanted to cup up his shattered heart as well as he did.

So, before he covered up his indecency with embarrassment, you ran your fingers through his velvety hair with admiration and murmured, “[Redacted], I understand…I love you.” He violently shivered after he processed what you said. You cuddled him until his breath was even. He slowly pulled himself from you, wiping his tears awkwardly and looking deep into your eyes.

“Sometimes I feel we were meant to be for each other.”  He leaned forward to beg a long and soft kiss, caressing your engagement ring.

“Maybe we are.” You chuckled, and patted the bedsheet while lying down, “And I probably need a nice nap with my dearest SOULMATE before waking up for my job. Wanna catch some Z's??”

“’m in.” [Redacted] settled you by his chest and smirked. He fell asleep right after you idly yawned. He hid his most cherished treasure near his heart proudly, smug, probably dreaming about the upcoming wedding.

----------

Random thoughts:

* Kind of inspired by the “DiE4u” from the Spotify playlist of [Redacted].

I really want to share some lyrics:

“'cause I’ve died inside a thousand times               

    But still I’d kill myself for you

‘Cause the truth of it, you could slit my wrists       

And I’d write your name in a heart with the hemorrhage”

This is Ren/[Redacted]…

*Probably would add some suggestive content if I would post this in AO3

*English is devastating. I laughed out loud when I realized I had misspelled Angel to Angle (probably because the math professor brainwashed me with polar coordinate integral this week)

[vasito-de-leche]

Do you have any specific queer headcannons of r1999 characters if so which ones and why?

I wrote a bunch of stuff for this post but then tumblr fucked me up and reloaded without saving it so here we are..... rewriting it all over again ... OAUGH. usually I default to seeing everyone as Vaguely Bisexual and Not Cis until stated otherwise, but you asked for specifics so here we go!

6 is aromantic or demiromantic.

On one hand, it's because I love projecting on my faves. On the other hand, it's because he genuinely doesn't feel like the type of person to be interested in relationships. But this isn't something that's tied to any potential disgust, repulsion or even trauma related to his Revelation and struggle against fate -- to me, 6 just doesn't feel romantic attraction. At the very least, nothing strong enough to consider pursuing. It's not in his priorities. I really dislike this specific thing that fandoms do in which every single character who is introverted, or who happens to be alone/isolated (either by chance or by choice) is secretly lonely, touch starved, pining and desperate for attention and romantic love. It feels like such a huge disrespect for their equally important platonic or familial relationships. 6 already holds a lot of love for his own community and his childhood friends, a type of affection that is shown in his subtle and unique ways. I like it when his character focuses on those aspects instead!

Mesmer Jr. is aromantic and asexual.

In her case, she's the opposite of 6. Mesmer Jr.'s trauma and OCD is much too intense for her to even consider the idea of an emotional or physical bond with anyone. She's disgusted at the idea of touching others so casually, and she's afraid at the possibility of allowing a person (someone she logically cannot have any control over) into her life because what if they throw her off her schedule? What if they mess every meticulous thing she's planned for herself and her mental stability? What if she loses her grip? Yes, it's plausible that she may find a partner who works perfectly with the way she needs things to be, and yes, you can headcanon that she heals and her OCD becomes "manageable" enough to have a stable relationship, but personally? I just like it when characters don't get to have stereotypical happy endings in which everything gets better through love and friendship and support -- like, yeah everyone loves to see their faves happy and all but eh... It's a bit of projection on my part! Some people don't get to heal and do all the things their disabilities prevented them from doing, even if we're given all this support and love. Some of us just have to find ways around these things, anything that works for us that makes our lives easier.

Sweetheart is queer but has a complex relationship with love. In a somewhat similar vein, Blonney has gone through every single letter of the LGTBQ+ community.

I tried my best to explain my thoughts on Sweetheart but at this point she deserves her own post because it's honestly a LOT, this single part was just too long so I cut it out entirely. Just trust me when I say she's queer and has a very complex relationship with love. In Blonney's case, we discussed the possibility of her being written as comphet and it got me to think a little about her. I see Blonney as the type of girl who presents as a straight bimbo, following the themes of her character and all, but who has constant crisis after crisis in the privacy of her bedroom, the only place she's allowed to be more than just a blondie. This constant journey questioning her orientations and gender happens entirely in her head and in private. I like to think that she just has these long monologues in her head. Sure, she's identified as straight her whole life, but maybe bisexual works better because there was that one girl she kept meeting under the bleachers. Oh, but maybe she's a lesbian, since all her boyfriends are just huge disappointments and none of them ever make her truly happy. Oh, but maybe that's just because she has bad taste in men, there was that one guy in class who keeps making her laugh after all. Ahh, this would be so much easier if she were a guy, her femininity is mostly performative after all. Ah, but she actually really loves pink and fashion... Nonbinary then? No, she's not the type to pick something so vague, it's one or the other. Oh, how about both? Genderfluid! Etc etc. If you ask her about how she identifies, she'll simply brush you off with a "What's it to you? That's none of your business, creep!" and move on, but this is something very personal to her. So far, she knows she likes being femme presenting and that she likes Jessica!

Eagle is a trans girl.

Have you guys seen those posts going around tumblr about how important it is that trans women exist because they fight for their own womanhood and girlhood in a world that constantly looks down upon feminine things and all women as a whole? Yeah. Yeah. Eagle being a scout that fights so hard to prove herself, the feelings of not belonging into the Boy Scouts and seeing how the Girl Scouts are created eventually, a space for her. The fact that she visits her father's grave so that he can see her grow up.

Kaalaa Baunaa, Oliver Fog, Medicine Pocket and Melania are probably bisexual, but they're super busy with work so they don't have time to address that.

Self-explanatory <3 I do like to think that Kaalaa and Medpoc are more chill about it, Kaalaa because she's a grown ass woman who is very mature, and Medpoc because they genuinely give no fucking shits about dating in general, so who cares about confirming whether they're bisexual or not. Oliver Fog is a little more flustered at the idea of exploring his orientation and whatnot, but it's tolerable. BUT MELANIA? I LOVE to think that she's FULLY aware that the MOMENT she acknowledges her bisexuality, she will have a crisis and then what will she do? She has 3 papers due next week and a heist this weekend, she can't possibly sit there wondering about liking girls! She's got things to do!

And here's the extra round of HCs that don't require that much text to explain or that lean towards being more silly!

Eternity has literally outlived the concept of gender. She/They royalty.

37 has QRPs instead. It Just Works. No one but herself and her partners understand the dynamics, though. As god intended <3

APPLe is a raging bisexual and has been spotted in many gay bars. Regulus is also bisexual.

The world would've been a better place if Bette was a butch lesbian.

Balloon Party and An-An Lee play with gender like its playdough.

Baby Blue is Not Cis and she's Not Straight either because none of that shit matters to her anymore, since she's been disconnected from reality and society for so long. She also doesn't care about labelling herself.

Diggers is trans, but no one can figure out which way exactly. It doesn't help that he refuses to clarify either. The same thing happens with John Titor, except she's very vocal about being a transwoman.

Bunny Bunny is bisexual but she hasn't realized this yet. In similar fashion, Horropedia is bisexual but he just forgets about it sometimes.

Druvis III as a trans woman goes hand in hand with Forget Me Not as a gay man. This is why they're both super divorced.

Leilani is pansexual because she prefers the colors of that specific flag over the bisexual one. Spathodea is pansexual because the personal distinction between pansexuality and bisexuality matters to her.

Tennant is bisexual because she can scam and seduce more people that way.

The Fool is nonbinary. Mf should've been born in the 2020's, I just KNOW he would've loved mirrorgender.

Zima is in the closet not out of shame but out of safety. Just in case.

Sotheby assumes that every girl in the world likes girls. So far no one has been able to prove her wrong because all she does is interact with other sapphic girls.

Pavia is nonbinary out of spite. But I also love transguy Pavia HCs so so so much, give that guy boobs, he would never get top surgery <3

Vertin is nonbinary too but she doesn't care about people knowing about it. She does, however, make the effort to be a little androgynous, as a treat for herself.

Madam Z and Katz absolutely had a Situationship going on during university. Katz was bicurious and Madam Z helped her experiment. Now the Situationship is between Madam Z and Constantine, the latter using Madam Z as a rebound after fumbling her relationship with Vertin's mother <- the machinations in my brain will astonish you.

TTT is genderfluid by virtue of being a picture on a TV, so I like to think she can just shift her appearance. In similar fashion, gender means nothing to Alien T and Voyager because they're aliens.

I specifically love the idea of all of the 1.2 gang joking about how Tooth Fairy is their token straight adult figure -- she's actually bi and asexual, but likes to keep that to herself so the kids can make their little jokes and have fun.

Enigma is gay and homophobic because his self-loathing is just that strong.

Turns out that the push Click needed to explore his own sexuality was getting killed on the battlefield, so now he's free to be gay. perhaps bicurious.

[poppitron360]

Raise your hand if you have a million bajillion works-in-progress!!!

Because I sure as hell do.

Anyway, I want to see which ones I should prioritise, so I’m doing a poll. Out of the 97 fic concepts i have in the vault, all with varying levels of completion, I have narrowed it down to 12 (the max number of poll options on Tumblr).

Please Vote!

Category 1- ANGST:

1. Ok not too many spoilers for this one but it’s SUPER angsty. All I can say is Leo faces a very creative punishment from Nemesis for cheating the prophecy and coming back to life, and it’s called “The only sad person in paradise” (undertones of Valgrace).

2. Leo deals with coping with the trauma of dying. LOT of angsty headcanons, including one where the design for the chb bead for the summer hoo is set in was the moment of Leo’s death. And he just has to keep that around his neck the whole time, and it’s chocking him. The opening line is “Every so often, Leo needed to remind himself that his heart was still beating.”

3. A curse befalls camp half-blood that’s slowly reversing the effects of their powers. Hecate cabin’s spells are being undone, plants are un-growing, arms healed by Apollo cabin are re-breaking. Magic is being unwound, and then Leo’s body starts to ache, and he realises… does that include a certain Physician’s Cure?

Category 2- VALGRACE

4. Platonic Valgrace (Romance implied)- “Never go to bed angry”- Leo and Jason have an argument on the Argo II. Jason thinks Leo won’t understand him because he’s never had to live up to the expectations of leadership that come with being a child soldier. Leo thinks Jason won’t understand him because he’s never had to fend for himself, he believes everything Jason has is because of who his father is. They storm off (Jason in the literal sense), argue with themselves for a bit- I did a really cool thing where I switch POVs every line or so, as their arguments parallel each other, like in a TV show where two characters are rehearsing a conversation with the other, but using the HOO multiple-POV thing- and then they go to sleep. They both have weird vision/flashbacks/prophetic dreams, where they experience a day in the other’s childhood. They then realise they completely misunderstood one another, and they’re not as different as they thought.

5. Jason and Leo go to New York pride. That’s the whole fic.

6. Instead of… whatever that ending to BOO was, the Gods reward Leo for his sacrifice by bringing Esperanza Valdez back to life. She thanks Jason for taking care of Leo while she was gone, and they have a heart-to-heart. They are officially boyfriends in this. Jason keeps being reminded of his own reunion with Thalia, and how Leo had stayed with him through that. He vows to do the same.

Category 3- MARRIED VALGRACE:

7. Leo and Jason get married (A classic “Wedding Episode”)

8. Just a fic describing married life with Leo and Jason- it’s called “Violets and Marigolds”

9. A fic from the POV of Leo and Jason’s kid, Isabella Valdez. Some angst, but I don’t have the full plot outlined yet. She’s adopted, and they don’t know her true godly heritage, and Leo suspects she might be mortal, and maybe Lupa made a mistake. Leo and Jason argue over whether she should join the Legion (They’re living in New Rome). Leo struggles with his fear of hurting the people he loves with his powers.

Category 4- MISCELLANEOUS:

10. Platonic Perleo- Percy and Leo get captured by government agents and have to escape Area 51 (Vaguely inspired by an episode of Helluva Boss)- VERY NERDY. This is a very fun one.

11. Leo talks to Hestia about… life, I guess. I started writing this while still on TLH and never found an ending, but it’s a good concept. Leo learns to accept his powers as something that can be good, when he only sees the bad. Hestia tells him “If fire was only about danger and destruction, then it would be the symbol of Ares, not Hephaestus.”

12. Thalia, Luke and Annabeth find little Leo while on the run. Leo and Annabeth bond over engineering. Luke tries to use Leo’s trauma as leverage to get Leo angry at the Gods. He tries to put the blame of Leo’s mom’s death on Hephaestus, since he’s responsible for giving Leo his powers. He points out how the Gods are all-powerful, and yet they leave the four of them- their own children- to starve on the streets. Leo in canon harbours a lot of resentment for his situation growing up, and Luke could easily spin that to justify his own anger.

Tagging people who might be interested:

@four-leafed-queer-gal @lavenderfairiez @child-of-helios @green-tea217 @puzzled-pegasus @imasimpdealwithit @123letsgobestie @ginnyluna @euryvices @ollieisanerd @sleepyycapybara @twomanyfandomshelp @lokiwiiiiiii @yoshuko-ew @keefessketchbook @frankzhang-appreciation-posts @hollow8007 @fairytalesociology @via-rant @daonedaonlyskh

If you have any suggestions for things to add to these fics- leave them in the comments. A lot of these I’ve struggled to flesh out/find endings for. Any help is much appreciated and you will be tagged in the fic if I use it.

Also, Lmk if you want to be tagged in any/all of these!

[iamcautiouslyoptimistic]

🦅Russell Adler Headcanons

{Author's Note} Since I'm literally obsessed with this man, I thought I'd post my headcanons for him. All of these are based off of his canon backstory and character with bits of my own speculation thrown in so nothing should be too out of left field here. I may end up posting more of my thoughts on him soon so we shall see. Hope y'all like it and I'd love to hear what you think, as well as any headcanons you guys might have! Tagging @littlemissclandestine for this since she's an Adler fan. Let me know if I did this man justice lol🤭

‼️Content Warning: swearing, suggestive themes‼️

~ ~ ~

-Badass asshole

-Takes awhile for him to soften enough to really love someone

-Flirtatious jerk when he has a crush

-Shows he cares through small actions that can be hard to notice, as well as vague, rather backhanded compliments

-Shamelessly stares from behind those glasses of his

-Thinks it’s really cute when you wear his shades but would never admit it

-Stylish with heavy 70s influence

-Probably modeled for a male fashion magazine at some point LMAO

-Definitely knows how to dance

-Seems like the type to meme a bit on British people (specifically Park lol)

-Very sarcastic, sometimes to the point that you don’t realize he’s actually joking because he's always so monotone

-Secretly loves Belgian waffles (this is a reference to that one Bruce Thomas TikTok lol)

-Has a soft spot for the Beach Boys (I mean, look at that 🎶bushy, bushy blonde hairdo🎶 of his)

-Since so many people have asked and teased him about it (I see y'all in the fandom and I will not accept this slander lol) -> his hair isn’t fake, it’s actually pretty soft, very bouncy, he likes styling it

-Very particular about his appearance as it is one of the few things that he can truly control

-Prefers cats over dogs

-Can get obsessive about certain things and lose himself to them (i.e. his search for Perseus) -> Mason quote: “He spent so long searching for Perseus, he didn’t notice when he lost himself.”

-Still struggles with PTSD from his time in Vietnam, which, alongside his obsession with finding Perseus, is what led to his divorce

-Carries a lot of guilt and regret that he doesn’t like to acknowledge

-Started smoking to cope with the trauma of war, now has a nicotine addiction; when he’s really stressed, he chain smokes like a chimney

-Gets restless if he doesn’t have a cigarette

-Doesn’t sleep well and when he does, he usually wakes up every few hours

-Scars - Shrapnel? Abuse? Torture? Animal attack? No one knows and he’ll never tell

-Kiss or trace those scars and he WILL melt

-Difficult for him to let his guard down

-Has a tendency to isolate himself -> Mason quote: "You were never alone, Adler. Only in your own stubborn head."

-Always wearing those damn glasses cuz STYLE but also to hide his eyes to remain as a sort of blank, emotionless slate to other people

-Absent parents who never showed him real love or support as he grew up so he struggles to do the same for others -> they were the reason he joined the army as soon as he turned 18

-When it comes to cuddling, he loves holding you against his chest and running his fingers along your arm, cheek, or through your hair; small but intimate actions like that are his favorite

-Doesn’t like to show emotions at all, even during more intimate moments; he needs some coaxing to relax in that way, which takes time

NSFW Below👇🏻 (it's really not too bad tho)

-Sit on his lap👀

-Will pin your wrists during the sexy times🫣

-EDGING & OVERSTIMULATION

-After his divorce, he's tended to view sex as more of a transaction where both parties are fulfilling needs for each other so he'd be selfish at first but as your relationship progresses, he'd become far more generous